


Of Terminators And Training Wheels

by SunshineAndRoses



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, Humor, Humorous Ending, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 47,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineAndRoses/pseuds/SunshineAndRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gordon Walker gets sent back to 1984 to Terminate a diapered demonic menace named Sammy Winchester & his pesky Pre-School brother Dean. The boys go after him to save their younger selves but Time Travel is tricky! It's a De-aged 80's flashback nightmare!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1-  
Jan. 23, 2007  
**********  
It was one of those days that was pre-destined to turn out all wrong.  
But Dean Winchester was in too fine of a mood to anticipate the coming misalignment of the Cosmos. Speeding down the road behind the wheel of his beloved Baby (the Impala's engine purring from a fresh oil change and a full tank of gas), he had Sammy by his side and his trusty tape deck blasting out side two of Ride the Lightning.  
He'd been happily singing along with the music until he noticed all the exasperated sighs and bitchy sideways glances directed his way from the passenger side. Realizing just how much he was annoying his brother, Dean sang even louder:

"SO LET IT BE WRITTEN, SO LET IT BE DONE. I'M SENT HERE BY THE CHOSEN ONE. SO LET IT BE WRITTEN, SO LET IT BE DONE. TO KILL THE FIRST BORN PHARAOH'S SON…I'M CREEPING DEATH!"

"You're creeping me out," Sam shouted over the music and his brother's off key vocals, "You're being way too cheerful for a day with no real hunt and no good leads on Ava."

"Forget today. I'm psyched for tomorrow!" Dean beamed, "Tell me, you haven't forgotten that tomorrow is a very important National Holiday have you, Sammy?"

"It's Sam." the younger man smirked, "And how could I possibly forget about National Jerk Day?"

"Bitch!" Dean retorted, "And since tomorrow marks the anniversary of the most auspicious occasion of my birth, I get to call you Sammy or Sasquatch or Princess Petunia if I feel like it! You, lowly non-birthday boy, may bow and call me Master of the Universe!"

Sam sighed and shook his head trying to hide his smile.

"And you will take me to Hooters!" Dean went on, "And you will call ahead and arrange for one of the waitresses to give me 28 spankings... or… you think if I skip shaving tomorrow I could pass for 38?... maybe 48 with really good genes?"

"Dean, if I manage to find any woman willing to degrade herself for your twisted fantasies you get one to grow on and that's it!"

"Fine," Dean pouted, "But you are going to buy me a present! Not just any present either, something rare and awesome! Something I could never imagine getting in a million years! The greatest present any man has ever given to his brother in the history of all mankind! So let it be written, so let it be done, Petunia, you will get this gift for me!"

"Well, hey, thanks for the heads up," Sam snorted, "Dude, what's up with all the King for a Day demands? It's not like this is a milestone year or anything."  
"I just think it's time to celebrate, that's all…"

Dean shrugged and gazed out through the windshield.

"It's been a rough couple of years, you know?" he continued, "Losing Dad... you losing Jess, all this psychic and demon crap, Ava going M.I.A., Gordon Walker deciding it was Open Sammy Season... I think we deserve to have some fun! We've been struggling and fighting evil all our lives, missing out on almost every Holiday and special occasion and it sucks! Seriously, Dude. We ain't getting any younger and in this line of work, who knows how many more birthdays we'll have..."

He took his eyes off the road long enough to catch Sam nodding in agreement.

"So from this day forward, any Birthday, Holiday, Groundhog Day, I say we go all out hog wild- we're talking Viking King level debauchery on the Big Day!"

"Wow, Dean. That's beautiful," Sam said, "And so very convenient of you to decide this right on the eve of your Big Day."

"Heh heh, damn straight!" Dean grinned then cranked the stereo up even louder, "Shut up! Best part!"

"DIE! BY MY HAND! I CREEP ACROSS THE LAND! KILLING FIRST BORN MAN..."

Sam cocked an eyebrow at his older brother.

"So you've been contemplating your own mortality and yet you're listening to a song about the Angel of Death killing first born sons?"

"Yeah, but this is about... that doesn't count… this is just..." Dean pursed his lips, "Uhh... Hey, Call of Ktulu is so kick ass! Let's rock that!"

"Thank God for instrumentals," Sam said under his breath.

Dean reached over and hit fast forward. Suddenly with a gut wrenching screech like the final gasps of a dying chipmunk, the Impala's tape deck devoured its contents, regurgitated them and then vomited a tangled nest of magnetic ribbon onto the floor boards before her horrified owner's eyes. Sam howled with laughter as the spent cassette ejected itself into Dean's lap and the monotone babble of talk radio instantly replaced thunderous guitar rock.

"Bad Baby!" Dean slapped at the controls, choosing to ignore his brother's guffawing, "Don't eat Metallica!"

"Dude! Karma is such a bitch!" Sam gasped, wiping tears from his eyes, "I told you to update your tape collection!"

"Yeah, well guess what else you're getting me for my birthday!" Dean chucked the musical mess in the back seat.

"An iPod Dock?" Sam suggested.

"Not unless you want a black eye!" Dean snarled, "No. A brand new copy of Ride the Lightning… on cassette! The way the Gods of Classic Rock intended!"

"Ok, I may have to go on an archeological dig for that…"

"Whatever it takes! The Birthday Boy commands it! Now quick, pop in some Zeppelin or AC/DC before this NPR crap corrodes my brain!"

"Wait, wait, shut up a second!" Sam frowned, adjusting the volume as an important announcement came over the radio waves.

… Police are continuing their search for missing Quantum Physics Professor Emmett Frink, believed to have been abducted from his home early this morning…

"Emmett Frink?" Sam repeated, "Do we know that name? I think we know that name…"

"Shhh…" Dean waved his hand, concentrating on the bulletin as Sam began to flip through the pages of their father's journal.  
… signs of forced entry. Witnesses reported seeing an African American male in his early 30's in the vicinity of the Professor's home before his disappearance. Police believe the suspect matches the description of recently escaped convict Gordon Walker…

"WHAT!" the brothers cried out together.

"We definitely know that name!" Dean scowled.

… believed to be armed and extremely dangerous… In sports news the Yankees beat out the Red Sox…

Dean turned off the radio in disgust.

"Ok, so Gordon's back in circulation! That's just great! Guess what else I want for my birthday, Sam?"

"You want me to knock Gordon's teeth out?"

"I'd rather watch you rip his head off with your bare hands, but teeth are a good start." Dean shook his head, "I don't get it. Gordon breaks free- why not come after you like he always does? Why go after this Professor guy?"

"Because according to Dad's journal, Professor Emmett Frink has a Time Machine."

"Are you serious?" Dean stared wide eyed at his brother, "Dude! A freakin' Time Machine? Like a Michael J. Fox hitting 88 in the Plutonium charged DeLorean Time Machine?"

"Yeah, Dean, except without the car," Sam skimmed the pages further, "It says here that Dad and a few other hunters learned about Frink's experiments with Time Travel and posed as FBI agents to investigate whether he really had built a working Time Machine."

"And they found out it was all bullshit?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Actually no. According to what Dad wrote they found out that his machine most likely was legitimate, but they all decided it was too risky to test on humans and that the laws of physics weren't something to tamper with. They made up a fake Government order for Frink to keep the machine hidden in a Secret Laboratory until further notice."

"And Gordon was one of the hunters who knew about the machine?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Sam sighed, "Dean, if Gordon has access to a working Time Machine, we're beyond screwed! He could go back to our last confrontation and make sure he wins! Hell, he could go back and kill Mom before we're born or fix it so our parents never even meet!"

"That's messed up!" Dean shuddered, "Whatever he's up to, the police won't have a clue where to find him. We can be damn sure he's covered his tracks."

"Well, we have one advantage the police don't," Sam said, holding up the journal, "We know the exact location of Emmett Frink's Secret Laboratory."  
Dean nodded then stepped on the gas.

"Let's just hope we get there in time!"


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2-

The Impala's mighty engine delivered the boys to Frink's Secret Laboratory in record time. After carefully checking the entrance way for any booby traps Gordon might have laid they hurried inside with guns drawn. It didn't take them long to locate the Time Machine Room and catch sight of the psychotic hunter and his captive locked behind its Plexiglas walls.

The Professor, a nebbish, hunched over little man with wild eyes and an unruly mane of shocking white hair, was working frantically over a large control panel full of dials and switches. Gordon stood nearby carefully monitoring Frink's every move an M-16 casually balanced on his hip. He seemed so absorbed in the scientist's activities that the Winchesters almost made it to the doorway undetected. Almost.

"Sam and Dean," Gordon sneered, his eyes glimmering with pure insanity, "I was wondering when the two of you might crash the party."

"Yeah, well this party blows!" Dean quipped, "Sam and I were on our way to Hooters and thought the Professor here might like to join us. But since I know hot chicks serving hot wings ain't your thing, Gordon, we'd be glad to drop you off at the State Pen!"

"Just be glad these walls are bullet proof," Gordon glared, "No. I'm afraid the Professor is staying right here until he's finished helping me with my travel arrangements."

"Where do you think you're going?" Sam asked.

"Not _where_ , Demon Boy, _when_. I'm sure you read all about Frink's Time Machine in your Daddy's journal. As soon as he gets everything's up and running, I'll be transported back to the Summer of 1984. Ain't that right, Professor?"

"In theory," Frink began, "But the theory has never been put into practice and the results could be…"

Gordon grabbed the back of Frink's lab coat and whirled the scientist around to face him and his wicked weapon.

"A simple 'yes or no' will do!"

"Hoyven Glayven!" the Professor yelped, "Yes! Yes! Of course the machine will work! It's all set for July 27, 1984."

The boys watched helplessly as Gordon shoved his terrified hostage back towards the control panel forcing him to proceed.

"July 27, 1984," Sam murmured, "That date mean anything to you?"

"That's the day _Ride the Lightning_ was released…" Dean frowned, then gasped and aimed his gun directly at Gordon's head, "Bastard better not mess with my Metal!"

"Dean, I'm sure your precious mullet rock is safe from the wrath of Gordon," Sam rolled his eyes, "Me on the other hand…"

"Hey, bastard better not mess with my little brother either," Dean assured Sam, then called out to Gordon, "So why the sudden urge to revisit the Reagan years? What's so important about July 27th that you've gotta pull a Marty McFly minus the DeLorean?"

"Oh, I have big plans for the day," Gordon stepped forward, leering menacingly through the Plexiglas, "Big, big plans!"

The Winchesters tightened their grips on their guns, waiting with clenched jaws for Gordon to reveal his diabolical scheme.

"I'm going to see the World Premiere of _Purple Rain_!" he announced.

"Huh?" Sam and Dean said at once.

"It's my favorite movie," Gordon sighed wistfully, "I was too young to see it on the big screen when it first came out. So now I finally get my chance."

The brothers exchanged a look then stared back at their nemesis almost pityingly. The cheese had slid completely off Gordon's cracker.

"So, you're telling us you've gone to all this trouble to break out of prison, kidnap the Professor, travel back in time and all you're going to do is take in a movie?" Dean questioned.

"Well, I'm gonna get some popcorn and Junior Mints too," Gordon shrugged, "Maybe check up on my family, you know, warn my sister about the vampire. Use my knowledge of future events to make the world a better place. And oh yeah…"

The hunter stroked his rifle lovingly as he fixed a predatory gaze on Sam.

"Me and my M-16 are gonna pay a visit to a nice little rental house just outside of Lawrence, Kansas. That's where a young demon soldier in training by the name of Sammy Winchester lives in July of 1984."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean hissed.

"Demon soldier in training?" Sam scoffed, "Dude, I was only 14 months old then! I hadn't even been through toilet training!"

"Doesn't matter," Gordon sniffed, "I take you out then you don't live to cause trouble now."

"That's pretty twisted even for you, Gordon," Dean spat, "Taking an assault rifle to kill a baby? Think you'll have enough ammo there, Psycho?"

"Don't worry. There'll be plenty of rounds left over for the demon brat's big brother," Gordon said, staring pointedly at Dean, "Can't leave any witnesses behind to grow up harboring revenge fantasies now can we?"

"Oh, hey. Thanks for taking me into consideration," Dean deadpanned, "I was starting to feel left out."

At that moment an ominous whirring sound erupted from the machinery and a beam of neon blue light shot out towards the ceiling of the laboratory bathing its occupants in an eerie glow.

"This cannot be good," Sam muttered.

"It's working, by Glayven! It's working!" Frink exclaimed.

All four men watched awe struck as the beam of light expanded and began to swirl into a luminous vortex in the center of the room. The Professor pulled at his hair and pumped his fists with Victor Frankenstien like fervor.

"The Time Portal has opened!" he shouted over the din.

"Well. That's my ride," Gordon grinned wolfishly at the Winchesters as he stepped into the vortex, "Hasta la vista…babies!"

"NO!" Sam and Dean cried out together.

They rushed forward colliding with the locked door and each other just as the vortex exploded in a burst of dazzling radiance that knocked them straight to the floor. The boys regained their bearings moments later and quickly helped one another to their feet, but it was too late.

Gordon was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3-

Emmett Frink slowly and painfully picked himself up off the floor of his laboratory, coughing from the smoke that still hovered throughout the tiny room.

Rising to his feet, the Professor stood before his newly operational invention and marveled at how simultaneously wonderful and horrifying the mysteries of science were. His musings were soon interrupted by the loud banging of fists against the Plexiglas.

"Oh, for the love of glayven! What now?" he muttered, turning to see his would be rescuers desperately entreating entrance at his laboratory door.

The duo practically ran him down the instant he let them in.

"Where is he? Where's Gordon?" Dean stomped into the room frantically waving his gun through the mist that lingered where the Time Portal had been only moments before. "Which way did he go?"

"Into the past, of course," the Professor stated, "My good man, were you not paying attention earlier?"

"How do we stop him?" Sam demanded, "How do we bring him back?"

He hurried over to the Time Machine in full Geek Boy mode as he surveyed the numerous dials and buttons across the instrument panel.

"You can't bring him back, silly boy!" Frink irritably slapped the younger man's hands away from the controls, "To reverse the process once it's already completed, why good glayven that's just preposterous!"

"So you're telling us Gordon's already made it back in time and now he's free to obliterate our kid sized asses?" Dean seethed, "Is that how it all goes down?"

"Well, the theory has never been tested, mind you," Frink began, "But according to my calculations, our mentally unbalanced acquaintance should arrive at his chosen date and destination in a relatively inconspicuous fashion and barring any interference from the proper authorities he will in fact be able to dispatch with the two of you as children at which time you will fade into oblivion before my very eyes having never actually existed at your present ages…"

Sam and Dean looked at one another anxiously then gazed down at their own bodies checking to see that everything was still all there.

"…Or it could be that Mr. Walker has just been blown into a billion trillion pieces," the Professor shrugged, "The calculations can be tricky by glayven."

"How will we know which will happen?" Sam fretted.

"I'm rather intrigued to find that out myself!" Frink declared.

Shaking back the sleeve of his lab coat to monitor his watch he grabbed a nearby pointer and began randomly poking the Winchesters testing their solidity.

"Screw this!" Dean snapped, knocking the pointer away mid poke, "I'm not standing around waiting to turn into Mr. Cellophane. Start that sucker up again, Professor! You're gonna send us back in time too!"

"Dean, are you nuts!" Sam gasped, "You heard the man. The machine has never been fully tested!"

"Look, if Gordon is about to pull a Schwarzenegger in T1 and terminate us before we grow up, then we've gotta pull a Schwarzenegger in T2 and go back to protect our younger selves!"

"Or we might get blown into a billion trillion pieces!" Sam reminded his brother.

"That's a chance we'll have to take, Sam. We can't risk letting Gordon wipe us out of existence. Besides, we'll get to interact with ourselves as little kids! Won't it rock to have our own personal Mini-Me's? Just think of what we can teach them!"

Dean rubbed his hands together gleefully then turned his attention back to Frink.

"Hey, make sure you set it up so we get there before Gordon does."

"I don't know, man." Sam winced, "I have a really bad feeling about this. I don't think we should put our lives in the hands of a man who says 'Glayven'"

"It's gonna fine, Bro!" Dean said, "The Professor gives us a head start on Gordon. We get to the house first, do the meet and greet with stinky pants baby you, Kindergarten Casanova me, you know, give 'em the whole: 'Come with me if you want to live' spiel and take 'em to a safe house. Then we lay in wait until Gordon shows up, blow him into a billion trillion pieces ourselves... and then we'll go watch the World Premiere of  _Purple Rain_!"

"Dude. It's out on DVD. We could watch  _Purple Rain_  any damn day."

"Not on the big screen," Dean pointed out, "Can you just imagine... that scene with Apollonia by the lake... oh man, seriously. Maybe Gordon isn't quite as Looney Toons as he seems. Plus,  _Ride the Lightning_  will actually be available on cassette! You can get one part of my birthday present… a couple decades early!"

"But then how are we supposed to get back to this time?"

"In theory," Frink started, "The effects of the time jaunt should wear off within 24 hours and another Portal will open to bring you back to the present day..."

"Sweet!" Dean grinned, "We'll be back in time for my birthday spankings at Hooters! This is gonna be so awesome!"

"Yes, in theory," Frink continued, "But I will tell you what I attempted to tell your gun wielding friend before. No one really understands the effects of traveling through time and space. The results could be catastrophic!"

"Catastrophic, Dean." Sam echoed the Professor, "Catastrophic means bad!"

Before Dean could come up with a retort, they heard the familiar whirring sound and found themselves once more bathed in neon blue light.

"Hoyven Glayven!" the Professor cried, "Here we go again!"

The Time Portal reappeared in the center of the room. Sam backed away from the swirling vortex, emphatically shaking his head 'No'. Dean grabbed his brother's face with both hands, forcing the taller man to look him in the eye.

"Come on, Sammy! I swear we can do this!" he insisted, "We're gonna rescue Little Sam and Dean, get rid of Gordon once and for all, grab up a fresh off the press copy of  _Ride the Lightning_  and get to see  _Purple Rain_  all in one day!"

"And then do we use our knowledge of future events to make the world a better place?" Sam sassed.

"Sam. Apollonia Kotero is jumping topless into a lake on the big screen. The world is already a better place! Let's go!"

Dean let out an enthusiastic whoop as he dove head first into the vortex with Sam reluctantly leaping in after him.

In a flash the Winchesters disappeared from Frink's Secret Laboratory and into the unknown.

*******

It took about ten seconds for Dean to decide that maybe, just maybe Sam had been right. Tumbling with his brother through the seemingly endless blue abyss like a pair of socks in a dryer made the novelty of Time Travel wear off pretty damn quick.

Terrified, nauseous and weary of listening to his own girlish shrieks Dean tried to make the most of their current situation.

"Awesome ride, eh Sammy?" he managed to call out, "Just like the Merry-Go-Round at the playground when we were kids!"

"For very probably the last time ever… it's SAM!" his brother hollered, "And I hated the Merry-Go-Round, Jerk!"

"Bitch!" Dean shot back before promptly adding guilt to his feelings of terror and nausea.

Quite vividly he recalled how he always managed to spin the Merry-Go-Round too fast for Sam to hold on sending the younger boy flying off into the sandbox.

No sooner had his mind's eye conjured up this shameful memory when past and present fraternal traumas met in a horrible collision of unfortunate synchronicity.

A tsunami of light rose up within the Time Portal and crashed against Sam sending him flying off into some unknown realm far beyond Dean's reach.

"Deeeeeee…" Sam's voice trailed off as the nameless void swallowed him whole.

"SAMMY!" Dean screamed, panic-stricken at finding no sign of his brother anywhere.

His fears for Sam soon turned into more immediate concern for his own well-being as he found himself caught in a mind bending whirlwind that pulled his body into a downward spiral.

Senses overwhelmed Dean felt himself rapidly sinking into the black depths of unconsciousness but clung to two final coherent thoughts:

"I hope I don't puke!" and "Where's Sam?"


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4-

Sam didn't know where he was but it was some place cold and very damp.

He was laying flat on his back, his naked skin pressed against an uncomfortable mattress.

Wait, naked? That wasn't good. How had he wound up naked?

When he tried to lift his head and sit up he found his body completely uncooperative. Also not good. Carefully turning his head to the side he blinked his eyes open and struggled to adjust his vision in the dim light. The first things to come into focus were the bars surrounding him.

Bars? Really not good. He was in a cage!

What had happened? Had they made it back to 1984? How had he wound up in a cage? And where was Dean?

He tried to call out to his brother but there was something stuffed in his mouth muffling his cries. Oh, seriously, not one little bit good!

Panicked he began to thrash around and was relieved to find his hands and feet were unrestrained. Still, he couldn't get any of his limbs to obey his brain. His legs kicked wildly and aimlessly in the air and his hands kept smacking against his head when he tried to reach up to his mouth. He must have been drugged.

He wriggled and flailed until he managed to turn himself onto his side and spit the foreign object out of his mouth. A gush of drool followed in its wake. Trying once more to call out his brother's name only produced more drool.

Yep. Drugged. And stripped and gagged and tossed into a cage. Just perfect. Only Sam Winchester could travel back in time and get himself kidnapped instantaneously upon arrival.

No. More likely Gordon had seen them pass through the vortex and gotten the drop on them.

Sheer terror filled Sam's heart. He had to break free. He had to find Dean.

Rolling forward, he gripped the bars of the cage and managed to pull himself into a sitting position. Reaching higher up to get a better purchase, his hand came in contact with something hard and plastic. As he leaned against it a melancholy voice spoke out, close to his ear:

" _Another miserable day!_ "

Sam jerked back startled.

"Who's there?" he tried to ask, dismayed at how garbled his drugged voice sounded, "Dean, is that you?"

When no one answered, he pressed his face against the bars, squinting into the darkness. There was no one there. He pushed himself back and could just barely make out the shape of a large rectangular box attached to the bars above his head. He reached up and pushed against it again.

" _Another miserable day!_ " the voice came from the box once more.

"Hello?" Sam spoke back to the box, "Is this an intercom? Can anybody hear me? Is anybody there? Hello?"

He felt around on the box, trying to figure it out until he managed to find another button. A different yet eerily familiar voice called out:

" _I love honey!_ "

"What the…" he timidly pushed the button again.

" _I love honey!_ "

His pulse was racing as he began to beat his hands against the box pressing any button he could find over and over again.

" _I love honey!... I love honey!...Honey!...Honey!…Another miserable day!... Miserable!... I love honey!… Bouncing is what Tiggers do best…_ "

"No, no, no. You've got to be kidding me..."

Sam felt his grip on sanity ebbing away. What torturous device was this? Gordon Walker was one twisted...

But now the darkness around him began to shift. Early morning light streaming through the window behind him illuminated his surroundings.

The room he was being held captive in was wall papered with images of Big Bird, Oscar the Grouch and Cookie Monster. His eyes drifted downward to see that Cookie Monster decorated the mattress beneath him as well. His breath began to quicken when he spotted the rubber pacifier resting in a puddle of drool near his naked foot.

His  _tiny_  naked foot.

He could make out the faces of his cell mates clearly now. Eeyore, Pooh and Tigger too. They smiled down at him from their plastic Busy Box. Above them there was a miniature steering wheel, a toy rotary phone and a picture of a dark haired, wide eyed, slobbering baby boy.

Except Sam quickly realized it wasn't a picture… It was a mirror.

"Oh... crap..."

" _No one really understands the effects of traveling through time and space_ ," Professor Frink's voice echoed in his head, " _The results could be catastrophic_!"

"No shit, Professor," Sam muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

He heard the rustle of cloth and plastic as he moved and glanced down to see Cookie Monster yet again… pictured on the front of his diaper.

"Well, that explains the dampness," he laughed humorlessly, then screamed at the top of his little lungs, "DEEEEEAAAAAANNNNN!!!!"

*******

"Apollonia!" Dean grunted as he startled awake.

His eyelids, crusted over with sleep, cracked open to a pair of red reptilian eyes staring down at him.

"Ahh!" he cried out, instinctively reaching under his pillow for his bowie knife.

He'd grabbed the weapon and whipped it out in front of him before his brain had fully registered what his fingers had actually encountered. Now he blinked in confusion at the small plastic Light Saber in his hand pointed at a glossy photo of Jabba the Hutt.

"Gah!" he sat up bolt right and shook his head, "Whereami?"

Images and memories came flooding back: Gordon Walker… Emmett Frink…  _Purple Rain_ … the vortex… losing sight of Sam in the Time Portal to…

He turned his gaze back to the wall beside him. Jabba the Hutt loomed over him grimacing smugly as he held the chain of his slave girl Princess Leia. Dean's eyes trailed down from her pretty face to her gold plated bikini and lingered there for some time before finally continuing on to the calendar page below.

It read: "JULY 1984".

"We made it!" he marveled, then let his eyes drift back up to Princess Leia's slave girl outfit, "I love the 80's!"

But now the urgency of the present situation lured him away from the lovely Leia.

Gordon was coming to play Terminator and Dean had to get Baby Sam and Little Dean to safety so he and Grown-Up Sam could deal with the psychopath. He leapt into action… or rather rolled off the bed tangled up in his covers and landed in a graceless heap on the floor.

"Urrrmm, time travel…" he moaned, struggling to regain his sense of balance, "Sucks worse than flying."

Still wrapped in an awkward cocoon of blankets he crawled across the carpet feeling disoriented and light headed… No, that wasn't it exactly. His head felt  _light_. His whole body felt light, like he weighed next to nothing. He groaned, trying to shake off the strange feeling. He didn't have time for this. He had to find Little Dean and Little Sam… and Big Sam for that matter. Where was his brother anyway?

"Sam!" he called out, then coughed and tried to clear his throat. "Sam?... Sammy?... Where are you, man?"

He winced and clutched at his throat. What was wrong with him? His voice sounded like he'd been sucking on helium. How had he managed to lose both his brother and his voice all on the same day?

And there was something else missing he realized as he anxiously felt around at his chest and throat. His amulet was gone. But worse than that… his Adam's apple was gone!

"Dude!" he squeaked then fought his way out of the blankets and scrambled to his feet.

He stood in the center of the room staring down in horror at his puny legs, lanky arms, scrawny hairless chest and extra small Ewok Underoos.

"No! Freakin'! Way!"

Eyes wide, he reached down to his waistband of his Underoos with trembling fingers then swallowed hard before taking a peek inside. A broken sob escaped him as his head fell back in anguish.

He'd just found Little Dean.

*******

"DEEEEEAAAAAANNNNN!!!!" he heard a baby crying from the other room.

"Sammy!" he gasped, "Hang on, Sammy! I'm coming!"

He raced out the door and down the hallway as fast as his little legs would carry him.

By the time he made it into the nursery, his brother was near hysterics, hopping up and down and shaking the bars of his crib like a caged animal. Dean ran over to him, feeling close to hysterics himself.

"Sammy!" he cried, "Oh Sammy! Oh Jeez…Oh Dude…Look at you…You…You're… Are you…? Am I…? What just…? How did…? Why…? Who…? Uhh… Sammy???"

The toddler heaved a huge shuddering sigh then fixed him with the bitchiest bitchface he'd ever seen on someone so young.

"It's Sam, Jerk!"

"Bitch!" he answered automatically, then clamped his hands over his mouth.

The word sounded so wrong spilling from his five-year-old lips. What sounded worse were the next words spoken by his one-year-old brother:

"Dean, we're screwed!"


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5-

Dean ran his hands through his stringy mop of page boy hair as he paced back and forth in front of Sam's crib.

"This is seriously eff'ed up!" he griped, "Damn that Frink and his messed up Time Machine! I can't believe he shrunk us! I mean we're talking major shrinkage here!"

"We didn't shrink," Sam rolled his eyes, "We aged backwards. I told you I had a bad feeling about the whole time travel thing!"

"But it wasn't supposed to turn out like this! We were supposed to come back here as adults so we could protect our younger selves, not relive our youth... literally! Frink must have turned the wrong dial or something. I swear if that whacked out scientist was here right now I'd..."

"You'd what, Dean? Bite his ankles?" Sam scoffed, "Look at us! We're not exactly in a position to start picking fights! Gordon is coming here to kill us and we have no way to defend ourselves! We don't even have any weapons, do we?"

Dean chewed at his lip thoughtfully.

"There's some weapons in my room," he muttered, "But they all say 'Kenner' on them."

"Dude!" Sam's voice was tinged with desperation, "What are we gonna do! How are we gonna get out of this one!"

Before he realized what he was doing, Sam grabbed a stuffed Winnie the Pooh Bear and hugged it to his chest, compulsively squeezing its squeak-toy belly. Dean eyed his brother with mounting concern.

"Ok, ok, chill out! Let's just call Bobby. Maybe he knows some kind of reversal spell or charm that can get us back to normal."

"Call Bobby?" Sam blinked incredulously, "Umm, sure. I'll get right on that!"

He snatched the toy receiver off his Busy Box and jingled the rotary dial a few times while staring pointedly at Dean.

"Hello, Bobby? What's that? Oh, I see. Apparently, this phone only let's me speak to Piglet and Roo!" he huffed, "Bobby's not bailing us out this time, Dean! I doubt he even knows who we are. Had he even met Dad by 1984?"

"Mmm, you have a point there," Dean winced, shuffling his feet and rubbing at the back of his neck, "Well... uhh... try... look up... Google..."

He regretted the suggestion the instant he'd spoken it.

"Google!" Sam shrieked, hurling a pacifier at Dean's head, "It is 1984! There is no Google! There is no Internet! I can't do the Geek Boy thing, Bro! I've got no laptop! No cell phone! No resources! Ya wanna know what I do have? A raging case of diaper rash! That's what!"

He rocked back on his Pamper clad hiney and squeaked the Pooh Bear furiously.

"You've got a raging case of bitchitude, that's what." Dean pouted.

"I'm sorry," Sam slumped forward against the crib, defeated, "This just sucks so much. You try waking up all soggy and see what it does to your mood."

Dean chuckled and ruffled his brother's hair through the bars.

"Trust me. I've been on enough benders in my time that I actually know what you're going through. We'll figure some way out of this, I promise. But for now, we've gotta get some place safe where Gordon can't find us."

"What are we gonna do?" Sam snorted, "Hotwire a car?"

"Yeah!" Dean beamed, "I'll steer. You work the peddles! Team work, Sammy!"

Sam sighed and tried to climb up over the crib's railing.

"Just get me out of this damn baby cage!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait!" Dean said, "You're gonna fall and I'm not tall enough to catch you."

"So what else is new?"

"Uh huh, yeah, right. You don't get to be that much of a smartass while your ass is in Pampers!"

Dean began to search around for a latch on the side of the crib.

"This front part slides down," he told Sam, "There's a trick to it, if I can just remember..."

"Hurry! There's no telling when Gordon will…"

Suddenly they heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Heavy, booted footsteps.

"… show up…" Sam gulped.

"Holy crap!"

"Go! Hide!" Sam urged as Dean continued to struggle with the crib's latch.

The footsteps reached the top of the stairs and paused there. Both brothers held their breath as they heard the distinct sound of a clip being loaded into a gun.

"Just get out of here, Dean!" Sam whispered.

"Not without you!"

Dean stepped up onto the mattress and reached over the railing to try and haul Sam out of the crib. Instead he lost his balance and wound up toppling into the crib onto his brother, crushing the Pooh Bear between them. The Pooh Bear squeaked loudly in protest and then the footsteps continued slowly towards the nursery.

"Jeez! Friggin' bear!" Dean grunted and quickly rolled off Sam only to land on a nearby See 'n Say.

"The Cow Says: MOOOOOOOO!" the See 'n Say thundered.

"What the…"

"Gimme that!" Sam yanked the toy out from under Dean's butt trying to shut it off.

"Here is a Pig: OINK! OINK! OINK!"

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean hissed, "Why does everything in your bed make noise!"

He tossed the See 'n Say out of the crib only to set it off again once it hit the floor.

"The Rooster Says: COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOOOOO!"

The footsteps were at the door now. The boys watched in horror as the doorknob began to turn.

"Dean…" Sam whimpered.

Dean let out a high pitched noise, not unlike the Pooh Bear, and in desperation grabbed a blanket at the end of the crib covering himself and Sam with it.

The brothers huddled together, trembling as the door opened and the footsteps approached the crib.

"I caught you!" a deep male voice said as the blanket was ripped from their heads.

Sam and Dean screamed in unison and then simultaneously fell silent.

Standing in front of the crib hovering over them was a mildly perturbed and very much alive John Winchester.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6-

"Dad?" Sam and Dean said at once, stunned to see John standing before them.

Their father loomed over them looking haunted, hunted and maybe just a little hung over. He crossed his arms and glared at them with bleary eyes.

"Boys! Just what do think you're doing?"

He sounded cross and the brothers had no idea what he was talking about. But he was alive and well and he wasn't Gordon so they jumped up and attacked him with hugs.

"Dad! Dad! It's really you! Oh Dad!"

"Ok, ok, knock it off you two," John chuckled gently pulling out of his sons' embrace, "It's no use trying to butter me up right after I caught you being sneaky monkeys!"

He easily pulled the latches on either side of the crib and lowered the railing before gathering his first born into his arms.

"Dean, how many times do I have to tell you!" he said sternly, "You're a big boy now with your own big boy bed. You're too old to be sharing Sammy's crib!"

"Hey, I can't argue with you there!" Dean laughed, then hugged his dad tight around the neck, "Man, I've missed you!"

"Nice try, kiddo. You're still sleeping in your own room tonight."

John gave Dean a firm pat on the behind before setting him down and reaching for Sam.

"As for you, stop encouraging your brother! Don't think I didn't hear you calling out for him first thing this morning. You read me, Munchkin Man?"

"I thought I was Sasquatch!" Sam furrowed his brow as John lifted him up.

"Whoa! You are soaked to the bone, pal," John noted, "I'm amazed you haven't been hollering about that since you woke up."

"Didn't occur to me," Sam shrugged, then looked down at his father seriously, "Listen, Dad…I…umm… I just wanna tell you that I'm… I'm really sorry about… everything… everything I said… everything that was going on between us right before you… well… you know… right before you…UURRMPH!"

John shoved a pacifier in Sam's mouth as he carried him towards the changing table.

"My gosh but you're chatty this morning, Sammy!" he yawned.

Sam shot his brother a look over John's shoulder. Dean rushed in front of their father tugging at his pants legs for attention.

"Hey Dad, listen," he said, "It is really awesome to see you again. But we have a major situation here…"

"Move, Dean!" John said irritably, bumping his legs against his son, "I've got to take care of your brother now."

"Ok, but, Dad, listen to me," Dean continued, "This is going to be hard to explain and harder for you to believe, but Sam and I are grown ups…"

"I see," John said setting Sam down on the table, "And what are you now that you're all grown up? Let me guess. Dean is a Jedi Knight and Sammy is a Cookie Monster! Aren't you? Aren't you a Cookie Monster?"

The man leaned down and began blowing raspberries against his youngest son's stomach. Sam whipped his head towards Dean, his eyes wide with terror.

"Ho boy, this just keeps getting weirder," Dean exhaled, "Dad! Dad, stop that! This is serious! Let me rephrase. We are your adult sons from the future. Sam and I are in the family business, ok? And there's this other hunter named Gordon Walker. You haven't met him yet, but in the future he comes back here through a Time Machine to kill me and Sammy as kids. Are you following this, Dad?"

"Uh huh," John said absently, "Hand me that talcum powder, son."

"Yes sir," Dean obeyed, "Anyway, we had to stop him so we got the professor who built the Time Machine to send us back here too. But something got all screwed to hell along the way and we somehow got turned back into the ages we were then… I mean now… but anyway, that's why you've got Sam up on the changing table even though he's actually 23 years old."

Sam nodded vigorously around his pacifier.

"Is this all making sense to you, Dad?" Dean asked, hopefully.

"Um hmm. Toss this, will ya?"

John pushed a small bundle into Dean's hands.

"Yes sir." Dean went on, "Because Gordon is on his way here as we speak. What should we…"

And then he looked down at the bundle in his hands… Which turned out to be a diaper… Sam's dirty diaper.

"AHHHHHHHH!" Dean howled, "What!... Dude!... Dude!... What!... AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Dean! Calm down!" John snapped, "You trying to make the neighbors call the cops? Just toss it in the pail already!"

Dean searched around frantically until he spied a small plastic trash can with Oscar the Grouch's face smirking up at him. He slam dunked the diaper, then glanced over at Sam who was looking entirely too smug at the moment for his liking.

Dean fixed his brother with a look. A look that said: "Laugh and you will die! I will kill you before Gordon has a chance to!"

Then he raced off to the bathroom only to suffer yet another indignity.

"I can't reach the sink!" he wailed, "This sucks! I hate this!"

"The step stool is in the same place it always is!" he heard John call from the nursery, "What is with you this morning?"

Dean quickly caught sight of the stool and stomped up on it. Turning the hot water on full blast, he grabbed a bar of soap and began to scrub his hands and arms up to the elbows, nearly rubbing his skin raw.

"Some day, some how, someone will pay for this!" he vowed.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7-

"Thissucksthissucksthissucks…"

Dean grumbled the mantra as he lathered up under scalding water, knowing full well that if they survived this ordeal his brother would never let him live down the whole diaper affair. He had been chanting this litany of suckitude for several minutes when John burst in through the bathroom door carrying a pile of pint sized clothing.

"Your turn, sport!" his father announced then casually reached over to yank Dean's underwear down.

"Nahuhuh!" Dean yelped, nearly falling off the stool as he scrambled away from the older man, "What'reya doing, Dad!"

"Son, stop being so difficult!" John scolded, "You need to get dressed already! Now what's it gonna be today? Chewbacca or Boba Fett?"

Dean cringed as the elder Winchester held two tiny pairs of clean Underoos up in front of him.

"Boba Fett," he decided, then quickly grabbed the little briefs and turned away before John could reach for him again, "I can do it! Thanks!"

"Oh, that's right," John smirked, "You're all grown up now."

He unceremoniously dumped a pair of Garanimal shorts and a He-Man T-Shirt on the toilet seat before Dean.

"Knock yourself out, kid. Just, let's please not have any more zipper incidents, ok? I'll go get breakfast started."

"Dad, wait!" Dean called over his shoulder as he struggled into his clothes, "What are we gonna do about Gordon? I mean, he's pretty heavily armed and hell bent on wiping Sam and yours truly off the face of the planet. I'm thinkin' we're gonna need major back up for this one. What do you think, Dad?... Dad?"

He pulled his head up through his shirt collar only to find he was all alone in the bathroom.

"Sonofa…" he spat, racing out the door and down the stairs.

His father was in the kitchen selecting some jars of baby food from the pantry.

"Dad, have you been paying attention to me at all?" Dean seethed.

"Yes, of course. Good job, Dean," John said, barely glancing his way as he turned to set the table, "You got your shirt on right side out and everything. So, you in the mood for Count Chocula or Boo Berry this morning?"

Dean bit back a scream and a few choice words for his father.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he spoke steadily, "It's just not a Monster Cereal kind of moment. The fact that there's a very insane man with a very big gun coming to kill me and my brother is distracting me from all that marshmellowy goodness."

"Well, tough!" John said, "I don't have time to whip up any eggs or pancakes. So unless you want the same goop in a jar Sammy's getting, Monster Cereal it is. Now come on, put your butt in the chair and pick one! I want you to eat something before the sitter gets here!"

"Wait, sitter? What sitter? What are you talking about?" Dean sputtered.

"For crying out loud, son! We went through all this last night," John pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, "I have to go on a very important business trip and I can't drop you boys off at Missouri's house 'cause she's out of town. I had to call the girl down the street to come baby-sit. I know you're not happy about it, but just give her a chance…"

"WE DON'T NEED A SITTER! WE NEED A S.W.A.T TEAM!" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs.

It was at that moment Dean remembered exactly why he'd spent the past 28 years in the role of the ever obedient son. The look on his father's face alone was enough to kick his survival instincts into overdrive signaling his legs to begin backing towards the wall. Regardless of what torment Gordon Walker might have in store for the rest of his body, it was John Winchester who posed the most immediate threat to his rear end.

"Boy, did you wake up this morning deciding what you needed in life was more spankings? Because I promise you that's exactly where things are heading."

Dean swallowed hard. This was unreal. Karma could not be paying him back so quickly for that Hooters Girl birthday wish…

"Son, why do we go through this every time I have to go out of town? You won't cooperate, you throw tantrums and you make up these wild stories. Well, guess what. That stops today! Now you sit down in that chair and eat your cereal like a good boy or else it'll be a full month before you can sit down at all! Understood?"

Silently cursing his younger self for being such a drama queen, Dean chose his words carefully.

"Dad, I know how crazy this all sounds. But I swear I'm telling the truth. If you can't wrap your head around the fact Sam and I traveled through time and aged backwards, fine. But you have to believe me that Gordon Walker is on his way here and he wants us dead. If you really think I'd lie about something like that, go ahead and beat my butt black and blue. Just don't leave us alone to fend for ourselves, please! I hate to admit this, but it was hard enough kicking Gordon's ass when we were full grown!"

John closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. Dean held on to a glimmer of hope when the man didn't immediately reach for his belt.

"Well, I gotta hand it to ya, kid," John said smiling in spite of himself, "This is even more creative than that time you drew all over your brother with a magic marker and tried to tell me he had Chicken Pox. I'm gonna cut you some slack this time, but you're not watching any more TV and you're not making any more fuss. And you best watch it with that potty mouth if you know what's good for you! Now I'm leaving here in five minutes and…"

"Ok, then take us with you!" Dean cried, grabbing John's legs in a panic, "We can just stay in the Impala and keep out of trouble! Please, Dad! Whatever you're going up against, we'd be safer with you!"

"Dean, gimme a break here," John pried himself from his son's grip, "You know you can't tag along! I've told you before, business trips aren't for kids!"

"Hunts you mean," Dean said, looking his father straight in the eyes, "Hunts aren't for kids… well, not yet anyway. By the time I'm in school and Sam's out of diapers believe me, you'll have changed your mind completely about whether or not kids can tag along on a hunt."

Dean tried not to smirk as he watched his father's stern expression shift into one of utter bewilderment.

"Don't be silly, son," John attempted to keep his voice steady, "I'm not going on a hunt… I'm a salesman… You know that…"

"Yeah, sure, a salesman," Dean nodded, then marched behind John's back and lifted his jacket up to reveal his gun, "The kind of salesman who takes a semi-automatic with him on 'business trips'. Business trips that just happen to involve killing supernatural things."

John stared at his son, flabbergasted. Dean knew he was finally getting through to the old man and went in for the kill.

"So what's it gonna be today, Dad?" he asked, triumphantly, "Iron rounds or silver bullets?"

"How in the world did you know…"

"Just like I've been trying to tell you. I've known. For more than 20 years in fact. You trained me and Sam to be hunters just like you. Raised us up like little soldiers. We've spent our whole lives tracking and killing evil things right by your side. We even found the thing that killed mom, but then…"

Dean felt his throat close up and his eyes fill with tears.

"But then you… died," his voice broke, "You died… and you left us… and it's been so hard without you… and I don't wanna lose you again…"

To his horror, Dean found that all the macho defense mechanisms he'd built up over the years were completely absent from his five-year-old body. Unable to stop himself, he threw his arms around his father's legs again and began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Don't go, Dad! Don't go!" he bawled against the older man's jeans, "We have to stick together! Please don't leave us!"

He hated hearing himself sound like a hysterical child. But now the flood gates were opened and he was powerless against the onslaught of pent up emotions that flowed through him.

"Okay, Dean! It's ok!" John patted his shoulder reassuringly, "I get it now."

"You… you do?" Dean snuffled.

John lifted his still weeping son up and carried him into the living room. He sat down on the couch, rubbing soothing circles across the boy's back with one hand while he reached for a box of Kleenex with the other.

"Wow, kiddo. Your Old Man's been pretty dense," John chuckled sheepishly, "All that talk of Time Machines and fighting some big crazy man… I thought that was just your overactive imagination at work coming up with yet another stall tactic to keep me at home."

"Uh huh?" Dean's shoulders shook convulsively as he blew his nose against a giant wad of tissues.

"But now I understand exactly what's been going on with you," John sighed, "I guess it's true what they say: Little pitchers have big ears…"

"Little who's have big what's now?" Dean hiccupped.

"You overheard me and the other hunters talking about this creature we've been tracking, didn't you?"

"Uhh… no… I wasn't around for that…"

"Oh boy," John exhaled, rubbing at his beard stubble, "And all those sessions at Missouri's house when we thought you were napping. The things she told me about demons and ghosts and monsters must have scared you half to death. Son, I'm so sorry you had to find out about all that so soon!"

"Dad… I've known about this since I was six! You're the one who told me!"

"Now you've got all these scary images floating around in your head and it's giving you nightmares about some bad man coming to hurt you and your brother. No wonder you've been sneaking into Sammy's crib almost every night!"

"I think you're missing the point…" Dean realized with horror he was right back to square one.

"…And you meltdown every time I walk out the door because now you know what I'm really doing and you're terrified that I won't come back; that I might die on a hunt and leave you all alone. So you like to make-believe that you and Sammy are all grown up so you can come help me. Is that about right?"

"No, that's pretty much dead wrong… Dad, I'm trying to tell you, we are all grown up! But the time machine reverse aged us…

"Dean, I need you to be quiet and listen to me! What I'm doing, it is dangerous. But, it's also very important. I'm trying to make the world a safer place for you boys and for everybody else. This thing we've been tracking… it's a werewolf. Do you know what a werewolf is, son?"

"Of course I know what a werewolf is!" Dean scoffed, "I bagged three of 'em before I was even out of my teens. We almost had a werewolf for an in-law. Go ask Sam!"

"Well, this werewolf is a scary thing. But I'll be with other men, other hunters, and we'll be watching each other's backs. We know what we're doing, so you don't have to worry about me. We're gonna kill this monster and then it won't be able to hurt anyone anymore. Don't you want Daddy to stop the werewolf?"

"No! I want you to stay here and stop Gordon!" Dean shouted.

"Son, that was just a nightmare you had." John chuckled, "There is no Gordon."

"Wait… You're getting ready to hunt down a Half-Man Half-Wolf creature but you think Gordon Walker is make-believe?"

Before John could answer back, the doorbell rang several times in a row.

"Ooops! There's the sitter!" John stood up dumping Dean off his lap. "Remember, I'm a salesman, not a hunter. There's no such thing as werewolves and Gordon Walker is imaginary…"

"Dad, no!" Dean tackled his father's legs once again, "That could be him now!"

John staggered over to open the door dragging Dean behind him.

"Hey there!" he said slathering on the Winchester charm, "Glad you could make it on such short notice!"

"Oh, fer shurr!" a young female voice spoke through the screen door.

"Dad, please don't leave us alone with some strange chick!" Dean begged "Not unless she's trained in armed combat!"

"You'll have to excuse my Dean here." John ruffled his son's hair affectionately, "He's just going through a little separation anxiety right now. You know how it is with Pre-School age kids."

"Yeah, totally Romper Room, I'm shurr!"

"I'm turning 28 tomorrow, people!" Dean called out.

"He's just pulling your leg," John smiled tightly, "His birthday's in January… Uhh, anyway, the boys haven't had breakfast yet, so you'll have to take care of that. Then Dean can have PB&J for lunch and microwave pizza for dinner and there's plenty of applesauce and strained vegetables for Sammy. Oh, and speaking of which, keep a close eye on the baby, will ya? He was babbling a lot more than normal this morning and making all kinds of strange noises like 'LSAT'. I'm afraid he might be coming down with something…"

"Dad, that wasn't baby talk! Sam's a College Boy. He was Pre-Law at Stanford! You just need to go talk to him again and try to overlook the fact he's not potty trained yet…"

"Dean! Stop interrupting the grown-ups!" John snapped, "Come on. Let's go talk outside where it's quiet for a minute…"

"Dad, no no no! Don't leave!" Dean panicked as John slipped out the door, shutting it behind him.

He could hear his father's voice muffled through the door and knew he would be gone as soon as he finished his instructions to the sitter. Frantically, he looked around, desperate for something that would prove his case. At last, his eyes fell on his salvation: His father's journal!

"Dad! Dad! Come back, I've got it!" he called through the door, "I've got proof! The Time Machine! All our hunts together! You wrote about it all in here!"

Ecstatic, he began to flip through the leather bound book, searching for the passage about Emmett Frink and the hunters' investigation into his experiments.

Instead he found less than twenty entries dated from Nov. 1983 to July 1984... The rest of the pages were blank.

"Stupid, freakin' paradoxical time space continuum!" he moaned in despair.

John poked his head back through the doorway, bending down to Dean's level.

"Hey Dean," he said gently, "I know you're still upset. But we'll talk more about all this when I get back, I promise. So, until then, mind the sitter, watch out for Sammy and when Daddy's done salting and burning the corpse we'll all go out for Happy Meals!"

He gave Dean a quick kiss on the forehead then took the journal out of his hands.

"Thanks. I almost forgot this. Love ya. Bye!"

"Dad… don't… don't…" Dean pleaded.

But John was already heading down the driveway, waving goodbye as he climbed into the car. Moments later the Impala was rumbling down the road.

"THAT'S MY BABY!" Dean wailed, pressing his face against the screen door.

He collapsed to his knees in a sobbing heap, feeling hopelessly doomed. He was barely aware of the spandex clad legs that entered the house and ambled over beside him until he felt the toe of a Jelly shoe poke him in the side.

"Oh my God, you're a spazz, kid!"

Dean heard a lighter flicking above his head and smelt cheap cigarette smoke a moment later. Frowning, he managed to get his sniffles under control, dried his eyes on his t-shirt and then looked up to see Madonna standing in front of him.

"You, like, have Cable, right?" she asked, blowing smoke towards his face.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8-

Dean sat speechless as Madonna, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, stood jangling her multitude of bracelets and dropping burning ash dangerously close to his bare legs while she looked down at him with utter contempt.

"Well speak up, Romper Room!" she jeered, flashing a mouthful of braces, "Do you like have Cable or what? 'Cause if you don't I am like sooo outtie, I'm shurr!"

"I have no idea," Dean answered honestly, "It's been over 22 years since I lived in this house."

"Space Cadet!" the Madonna clone spat, "Your Daddy told me you like make up stories all the time and totally pretend you're a grown up an' stuff!"

"Oh, he did, did he?" Dean scowled, "Thank you very much John Winchester!"

"Yeah, an' he said if you like started yammering about him like going off to hunt werewolves or devils or Draculas or whatever he said that it's just 'cause you have like an overactive imagination an' watch too much TV an' stuff… So like, that must mean you totally have Cable, right? Awesome to the Max! 'Cause I totally never get to watch like MTV or Cinemax an' stuff! My parents are like sooo lame and won't fork over the fundage!... An' ohmigod! Like, where's your phone! I totally gotta call my boyfriend before he like goes to work!"

Before Dean had a chance to respond or recover from the girl's verbal barrage, she spun on her heel suddenly and clomped off towards the kitchen.

He pressed his fists against his temples, struggling against the rising fury that threatened to send him into tantrum mode again. He couldn't believe that his father had just left him and Sam, let alone left them in the care of this instantly loathsome creature. Still, with John gone, the Impala and her extensive arsenal gone with him, the Material Girl was their only hope.

Scrambling to his feet, he chased after the teenage smokestack, his tiny legs doing their best to keep up with her gigantic strides. By the time he caught up to her, she had found the phone and was already deep in conversation.

"…Oh, it's like majorly bitchin' Babe!" she said, burying her overly teased and bleached head in the pantry, "Old Man Winchester is like totally absentee 'til after Midnight, fer reals!... Yeah, fer shurr he has Cable!... Bogus snackage though. There's nothin' but Baby Food an' Monster Cereal in here!"

Realizing he would never convince this teen tobacco queen of the truth, Dean tried a different tact.

"Excuse me, Miss Ciccone…" he began.

"Tiffany," the girl rolled her eyes as she continued to hunt through the pantry, "My name's Tiffany!"

"Of course it is," Dean smirked, "Well, Tiffany, since the pantry's kinda lacking how 'bout we all go out to Waffle House… right now… Or you know, IHOPs… anywhere you want… anywhere but here… I'm buying!... Oh no, wait. I'm five. I have no cash…Uhh…So hey! Breakfast at Tiffany's, huh? I bet you're a whiz in the kitchen and I'd really love to see your house before Gordon Walker gets to this one… Can we go there now…Please?"

Tiffany gave Dean a look of extreme exasperation as she held the phone to her chest.

"Not even! I told you! There's like no Cable at my house! Now zip it, Romper Room! I'm totally on the phone!"

She grabbed a box of Boo Berry from the pantry and brushed past Dean as she marched over to the table to pour herself a bowl.

"…So, when do you have to like be at the Record Store?" she spoke into the phone, "… Oh, what do they care if you're late? They totally don't pay worth a crap anyways!"

"Ok, it's cool. We don't have to go out for breakfast... We could… we could… Oh! You could take me and Sam to the Park!" Dean looked up at the young woman imploringly, "Our regular sitter always takes us to the Park... far, far away from this house... She let's us ride the Merry-Go-Round and play on the swing set where psychotic demon hunters can't find us... So let's go there…right now… whatdaya say?"

"You totally have a swing set outside, Bratazoid!" the girl sneered, pushing Dean aside as she opened the fridge.

"Oh, you don't say," Dean muttered.

He moved cautiously towards the sliding glass doors that led to the fenced off back lawn and made a quick nervous scan of the outside area.

There was a swing set all right, along with a picnic table, sandbox, kiddie pool and tons of toys. He had forgotten how sweet he and his brother had it once upon a time before their father plummeted completely into his obsession with hunting evil. Everything a pair of preschoolers could ever want was right there in their own backyard… Everything except a bullet proof security system.

Suddenly feeling very unsafe and exposed Dean drew the curtains closed and stepped away from the glass. He hurried over to the table and began to push at it, struggling in vain to reposition the heavy object in front of the kitchen doors.

"Hey, know what else me and Sam like to do when Dad's out of town?" Dean grunted, sending milk and Boo Berry sloshing as he shoved against the immovable table, "…Barricade the house! We just love to board up all the windows and push furniture and mattresses up against all the doorways! It's so much fun to play hideaway from the crazy man with the M-16!... You… you wanna give me a hand here?"

"... Ohmigod, Babe!" Tiffany squealed, "The 'fridge is like totally brimming with brewskis, fer reals! Tubular! We can like party all night, fer shurr!"

Dean's eyebrows flew up to his scalp. He spun around to face the sitter only to find her mini-skirt clad butt greeting him as she bent forward to rummage through the refrigerator.

"Hold up!" he addressed her backside, "You just got here and you're already planning an underage throw down with some random dude? Who's gonna be watching Little Dean and Sammy?"

"… So, like when do you get off work, 'an stuff?" the girl asked amidst the clinking of bottles.

"All right, you know what? Screw this, I'm done sugar coating!" Dean said, impatiently yanking at the phone cord, "You can save your adventures in babysitting for some other night and some other kids. Right now, there's a gun wielding maniac heading this way so we need to go grab my brother and get the Hell out of here!"

Tiffany stood up straight finally, balancing her cigarette and a beer in one hand as she bumped the refrigerator door closed with her hip.

"... After Noonish? Oh, Lame-O-Rama!" she pouted, "Can't you like blow off early an' stuff?... Babe! Every second you're not here is totally cutting into valuable make-out time, fer reals!"

"Hey! Lawrence Lolita!" Dean spat, "What part of 'gun wielding maniac heading this way' are you not getting? Hang up the phone, put my Dad's beer back in the fridge and let's get a move on!"

The teenager stomped over to the cabinets in search of a bottle opener, clotheslining Dean with the phone cord as she went.

"GAK!" he cried, struggling to maintain his balance.

"UH! No way!" Tiffany huffed into the phone, "Like, why do you have to like wait for the new releases to come in?"

"That's it!" Dean seethed, rubbing at his throat, "Gimme that damn phone!"

He charged towards the teen who simply planted her manicured hand against his face and held him at arm's length as he groped and flailed blindly.

"…Ride the What?... Metalli-who?... Oh, you and your grody Heavy Metal crapola! Like gag me with a spoon already!"

"Lady!" Dean said, his voice muffled against the girl's fingerless lace glove, "You're about two seconds away from gagging on some kid sized Keds! Hang! Up! The! Phone! NOW!"

With a yawn the babysitter pushed forward and sent Dean sprawling to the floor with a single shove.

"SONOFABITCH!" he yowled.

"... What was what?... Oh, it's nothing. Just the Winchester rug rat like having a spazz attack an' stuff... Ok, like whatever, Lameoid! Wait for your damn Head Banger's Barf Fest to arrive if you must. But you better spend the rest of your paycheck on some real music for me or we are totally Splitzville, fer shurr!... 'Kay Ciao!"

She hung up the phone then tossed her head back, polishing off the rest of the beer in front of her young charge. Dean could only watch in stunned silence as his caretaker belched loudly, wiped her mouth off with the back of her gloved hand then fixed him with an icy stare.

"What the Hell is wrong with you!" he sputtered, glaring up at her, "Did you watch Mommie Dearest and decide it was an instructional video on Child Care?"

"Romper Room," the girl sighed, blowing smoke through her nostrils, "Do you know what happens to annoying little boys who like bug their babysitters when they're on the phone an' stuff? They totally get locked in the closet and gobbled up by the monster that lives inside, fer reals! So like knock it off or you're totally monster chow fer shurr!"

Dean snorted with contempt.

"That line of bull's not gonna work on me, Sister. You see, the Closet Monster was one of my first kills. And he only stalked coastal areas- never anywhere near Kansas. He also happened to prefer Nicotine addicted blondes to little boys, so consider yourself forewarned because it won't be until 1992 that I gank him."

He studied the girl's baffled face.

"Yeah, you heard right. I'm from the future. And I'm not just some dumb kid you can jerk around either. I'm a grown man- a highly trained hunter of the Supernatural. My brother and I traveled back here through a Time Machine to stop an insane killer. We just accidentally wound up inhabiting the same bodies we had as children!"

Tiffany contemplated him for a moment as she took a final drag off her cigarette.

"Ohmigod, kid! When Old Man Winchester said you like made up stories all the time an' stuff he totally didn't tell me the stories you made up were so lame!"

With a flip of her skirt she stepped over Dean's head and sashayed off into the living room. Dean muttered a few choice words under his breath before picking himself up off the linoleum and following after her.

Tiffany flopped down on the couch, lighting another cigarette before grabbing the remote and clicking the TV on. Amidst the strains of electric guitar chords and pop synthesizers the cartoon logo for MTV danced around the screen.

"Tubular!" the girl squealed, cutting up the volume.

Dean snatched the remote from her hand and cut the TV off.

"Hey you total turd burger!" Tiffany spat, "I will sooo be locking you in the closet even if you aren't scared of monsters! Now give it back, fer reals!"

"Damn it! We don't have time for this!" Dean threw the remote across the room, "We have to leave this house now before Gordon Walker shows up and kills every single one of us!"

"Your Dad totally mentioned Gordon Walker," the girl snorted, "That's like your imaginary friend, right?"

"Thanks again, Dad!" Dean hissed, "Look. He's not imaginary! And he's not my friend… well not anymore. I mean, we hung out for a while, shared a few drinks, killed a couple vampires, you know, the usual. But then he got this crazy notion in his head that my brother was part of some Demon Army and needed to be destroyed. Now he's on this obsessive mission and he's not going to let anything or anyone- and that would include you and me- get in the way of his hunting Sammy down!"

"Who's Sammy?" Tiffany asked, inhaling another lungful of smoke. "Is he imaginary too?"

"Sammy!" Dean repeated incredulously, "Sam… Winchester… my brother… the other kid you were hired to look after…"

Dean gawked as the young woman continued to look at him with a blank uncomprehending stare and wondered if the substance she was smoking actually was tobacco.

"The baby my father specifically told you to keep a close eye on… that ring a bell? Or did you just assume he was referring to an imaginary baby?"

"I totally thought he meant you what with all the whining and crying you were doing," the teen shrugged, idly flicking ash onto the floor, "I mean, you're the only lame little rug rat I see around here. Ohmigod! It would totally suck if there were two of you."

"There are two of… Wait… Let me get this straight," Dean felt as if his brain was about to explode, "You took this gig, agreeing to come over to this house and watch after some kids… but you don't even know how many kids you came over to watch?"

"Duh! I took this gig so I could come over and watch MTV!" the girl snarled, bumping past Dean as she went to fetch the remote, "Now quit totally bugging me, Romper Room! Go like play in traffic with your imaginary brother, an' stuff!"

"He's not imaginary!" Dean seethed, "He's right upstairs in the nursery you freakin'… Airhead!"

"Yeah, I'm sooo shurr!" the girl sneered, "Babies totally make noise. If he's so like, not imaginary how come I haven't like heard a peep out him since I got here, huh? Is it maybe 'cause you like made him up? Or I dunno… maybe your imaginary killer man like came and took him away while you were like down here annoying me! As if!"

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but then froze in horror. It was true there hadn't been a peep from Sam the whole time he'd been downstairs dealing with his Dad and then the World's Worst Babysitter… And it wasn't at all like his brother to remain so quiet for so long…

"Sam?" he called out anxiously, "You still ok up there?... Sammy?"

Tiffany cackled at the young boy's distress as she sat down and clicked the television back on.

The hypnotic beat of synthesized bass, pulsating laser beams and blatant homoerotic imagery flooded the room as Frankie Goes to Hollywood's video for Relax blasted from the TV, drowning out any response that may have come from upstairs.

"RELAX! DON'T DO IT! WHEN YOU WANT TO GO TO IT! RELAX! DON'T DO IT! WHEN YOU WANNA COME!"

"Bitchin'!" the girl whooped, leaping up to dance and sing along with the music.

"RELAX! DON'T DO IT! WHEN YOU WANT TO SUCK TO IT! RELAX! DON'T DO IT! WHEN YOU WANNA COME!"

"SAAAAMMMMMMMYYYYY!" Dean screamed, taking off running at full speed.

He raced up the stairs in complete hysteria even as Frankie insisted he "RELAX".


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9-

Dean hurried frantically towards the nursery, berating himself every step of the way for leaving Sam all alone and vulnerable this whole time.

If there was a constant in the Winchester way of life it was that the brothers could never be separated for too long without one of them getting kidnapped or clobbered in some way. And with Gordon Walker on the prowl, Dean felt he should have known better than to let Sam out of his sight even for an instant.

He practically knocked down the door as he burst into Sam's room, dreading what he might find, but even more shocked at what he saw…

"Oh, you have got to be freakin' kidding me!"

There was Sam, fast asleep in the crib, clutching the Pooh Bear to his side while a Fisher Price cassette player beside his head plinked out Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. He was wearing nothing but a Baby Smurf T-Shirt and a Big Bird diaper and once again had a pacifier clamped firmly between his lips.

Dean cursed both the fact that his brother was laying down on the job and also that camera phones hadn't yet been invented for him to capture such a blackmail-able moment. He marched over to the crib and slammed his fist against the cassette player to shut off the annoying music before reaching down to wrench the pacifier out of Sam's mouth, cringing at the amount of drool that trailed along with it.

"Sam!" he shouted, roughly shaking the lazy brat through the bars, "Come on, Sammy! Wake up!"

Sam snorted suddenly, his eyelids fluttering open as he smiled and leisurely turned his head towards his brother.

"Good morning, Starshine!" he said serenely, stretching out his arms.

"What the Hell, Sam!" Dean frowned, "Did someone slip hemp in your Huggies?"

"Talcum powder," Sam announced with a dreamy sigh, "Why exactly are we not using this wonderful substance every single day of our lives? I'm serious, Dude. My tush feels so good right now."

"Gordon Walker is coming to kill both our tushes!" Dean reminded him, "Now, come on! Snap out of it!"

"Buzzkill!" Sam pouted, sitting up, "Hey, where's Dad?"

"He left, Sammy!"

"What!" Sam gasped, "Why? Where did he go?"

"He went off to hunt a freakin' werewolf and left us here with some brain-dead Madonna wanna-be, named Tiffany of all things. And she'll probably burn the house down or kill us with second hand smoke before Gordon even gets a crack at us!"

"But... I don't understand," Sam said, anxiously clinging to the Pooh Bear, "Why would Dad just leave us when he knows Gordon is headed this way?"

"He doesn't believe Gordon exists!" Dean fumed, "He thinks I dreamed him up 'cause apparently I had a pretty vivid imagination as a kid. He doesn't buy that we traveled back in time or that we're really adults trapped in children's bodies. Oh, and by the way. Thank you so much for backing me up while I was trying to convince him! 'Cause, ya know, you suckin' on a damn pacifier and falling asleep snuggled up with that friggin' bear? That helped a lot!"

"Hey, I tried talking to Dad after you ran off to the bathroom shrieking like a little girl!" Sam insisted, "But he just kept saying I was acting 'fussy' and needed a nap. Then he started rocking me in his arms and singing Stairway to Heaven and..."

Sam frowned, rubbing at his head.

"... And I don't know, Dude. I guess I drifted off sometime before he got to the part about the 'bustle in your hedgerow'... Sorry, I seem to be highly susceptible to lullabies right now. Crap, Dean. I don't know why Dad wouldn't listen to me. It was like he couldn't comprehend anything I was trying to tell him."

"Well, yeah, ok…You aren't exactly Mr. Enunciation now that I think about it," Dean noted.

"You seem to be able to understand me just fine."

"That's 'cause I'm fluent in Sammy-Speak, Bro," Dean said wryly, "I've always been able to understand your blabbering even when you've been whacked out of your gourd delirious, down to the bottom of your second bottle of tequila shit-faced… or yeah, when you were this age had your own weird toddler language. But since Dad wasn't expecting to hear anything coming out of your mouth but Baby-Talk, I guess that's all he heard. Jeez, no wonder he thought I was yanking his chain. He wasn't expecting anything to come out of my mouth but a bunch of crazy ass 5-year-old's make-believe."

Sam gripped the bars of the crib suddenly, looking out at Dean with wide watery eyes.

"So we got Dad back just to lose him again?" he whimpered, "Oh my God, Dean! What are we gonna do? How are we supposed to stop Gordon all by ourselves without Dad around?"

"Hey, Hey!" Dean brightened immediately. It was so ingrained in him to push his own fears and sorrows aside whenever Sam needed reassurance, "What are you talking about? We've stopped Gordon before and plenty of other, scarier things all by ourselves without Dad around."

"But we were so much older then, we're younger than that now..." Sam stated with a nervous laugh that sounded dangerously close to a sob, "I mean we were bigger then. Much bigger. I was 6' 4" and full of muscles, damn it! Now I can't even climb out of this crib by myself… and… and… I want my Daddy!"

Dean immediately recognized the panic in his brother for what it was: the baby boy in him threatening to take over. If all his own macho defense mechanisms were down, he could only imagine what Sam must be going through. But if they were to survive this they were both going to have to man up and keep their wits about them. He caught his sibling's trembling chin in his hand, ignoring all the drool as he looked the kid straight in the eyes.

"We're gonna get through this, Sam. I promise. We're still Winchesters no matter what size we are. Got that?"

He waited for the boy to nod back at him and that familiar stubborn Sam determination to return to his countenance.

"Good." Dean exhaled, "'Cause, you know. I'm gonna need my trusty Geek brother watching my back even if he is currently slobbering down my hand."

"I'm teething you Big Jerk!" Sam flashed a dimpled grin bearing the few teeth he had.

"Itty Bitty Bitch," Dean winked, then got down to business, "As for getting you out of this crib, I think it's gonna be a two man job. There're latches on either side that have to be pulled at the same time. So you get that end while I get the other."

Sam crawled over to his side pushing against the latch with as much strength as his tiny fingers could muster.

"Stupid friggin' childproof sonofa..." Dean grunted as he struggled with his latch.

"Hey, wait a minute! What about the babysitter?" Sam asked, suddenly remembering there was another person in the house, "Does she have a car? She could take us to the police station. Or at least drive us to another part of town where Gordon won't think to look for us."

"Trust me, I already tried that line of reasoning with her and she's not biting," Dean shook his head in disgust, "Who cares about rescuing two small children from a lunatic when you have Music Television all day every day? She's about as helpful as a bag of marshmallows in a forest fire."

"So how do we convince her to come with us?" Sam frowned.

"Hell, I say we make a run for it and just leave her ass here to figure things out for herself once Gordon shows up."

"We can't just leave her here, Dean!" Sam said aghast, "Gordon will take her hostage or torture her for information! We can't let something horrible like that happen to an innocent bystander!"

"Now how can you say such a thing Sam when you haven't even met the woman?" Dean scoffed. Though inwardly, he knew if Sam had an innocent to protect, there was more hope for all of them.

"We're not leaving without her and that's final!" Sam squeaked the Pooh Bear emphatically.

"Fine, whatever," Dean rolled his eyes, "She's immune to my charms for some unfathomable reason, but maybe you can actually get through to her with that patented Sam Winchester sad puppy look of yours... You got the latch worked on your end?"

"Almost..." Sam put all his weight against the lever as he pushed with both hands, "There!"

"Yahtzee!" Dean declared once they got the railing lowered, "You're a free man, Sammy!"

"Finally!" Sam said in relief as Dean helped him out of the crib, "Now let's go talk to Tiffany."

Sam set off determinedly towards the door, taking all of three steps before stumbling forward and crash landing face first on the carpet.

"Dude!" Dean cried, rushing to his brother's side.

"Uhh... that was unexpected," Sam's eyes widened as he struggled to sit up.

"You can't walk?" Dean exclaimed, his hopes for their survival beginning to falter, "Exactly how much more screwed can we get in a single day?"

"I can walk!" Sam insisted, "I'm 14-months-old, right? Of course I can walk!"

He pushed himself to his feet and started forward again, scrunching his toes into the thick carpeting to steady himself with each ungainly step.

"See, I got this!" he said, pin wheeling his arms to keep his balance, "Really, I got this!"

Dean ran his hands through his hair watching his brother's struggles to remain upright.

"Looks like making a run for it just got a lot more complicated," he groaned, "Ok, drop the friggin' bear, Sam. The damn thing's almost as big as you are and it's affecting your stride."

"No way!" Sam gripped the stuffed animal tighter, happily squeaking its belly as Dean grew more and more unnerved, "What?... It's calming me down, ok?"

"Dude, I swear," Dean rubbed at his temples, "There is only so much insanity I can handle in a 24 hour period! You've still got a big college brain sitting inside that miniaturized skull of yours. You do not need a Winnie the Pooh squeak toy to calm you down!"

Sam hit his brother with that ever familiar bitchface.

"Oh, go hum some Metallica!" he sassed as he toddled out the door, Pooh Bear in tow.

Dean watched his Stanford educated brother's diapered butt heading down the hallway and decided that insanity was rapidly becoming another constant in the Winchester way of life. With a shrug he followed after Sam quietly humming Sad But True under his breath.

Sam made it halfway down the hall before losing his footing and kissing the carpet once more, forcing another angry squeak from the plush toy in his arms.

"Damn it this sucks!" he swore, rolling to his side and brushing carpet lint off his face, "This is why I need the Pooh Bear. It keeps breaking my fall."

"Ok, Maggie Simpson," Dean sighed as he helped his brother to his feet, "It's all coming back to me now. I had forgotten what life was like when you were this age."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just say it involved a lot of handholding on my part," Dean grumbled, clasping Sam's tiny fist in his.

"Aww, Dean!" Sam teased, "Does this mean we're going steady?"

"Shut up! It's gonna take us forever just to get down the stairs."

"How much time do you think we have before Gordon gets here?" Sam asked as the boys carefully navigated the first few steps.

"I have no idea," Dean answered, "Guess I should have been more specific when I told the Professor to give us a head start."

"Well, did he even send us back to the same day as Gordon?" Sam wondered.

They were still near the top of stairs but could hear the TV blasting all the way from the living room. A crowd was cheering wildly as the enthusiastic voice of some random announcer shouted over the din.

"We are here live at the Star-Studded Extravaganza for the World Premiere of Purple Rain! Just listen to that crowd! And who do I see coming out of the Purple Stretch Limo but His Royal Badness himself... Prince!"

Sam and Dean paused to exchange a look.

"It's the same day all right," Sam stated, "Gordon's favorite movie opens today."

"Yeah," Dean sulked, "Knowing Gordon, he probably went straight to catch a matinee. I can just picture the son of a bitch now, happily eating his popcorn and Junior Mints and watching Apollonia jump in the lake while we're stuck here waiting for him to come kill us! He's just cocky enough to bide his time coming over here, thinking we're just helpless little kids that he can easily defeat."

"Considering he's a full grown man with an assault rifle and we can't make it down a flight of stairs without holding hands, I'd say that's a pretty accurate assessment," Sam said, "Dude, we've gotta just get the babysitter and run!"

"I'm telling ya, man, she won't budge!" Dean insisted, "She wants her MTV! The truth sure as Hell didn't work and I'm fresh out of legitimate sounding lies to get her out of the house."

"I'm sure we'll think of something…" Sam began, already practicing his most persuasive puppy dog look.

"Sam, I know you've got this thing about not harming innocents but we're probably gonna to have to light the couch on fire just to get her mini-skirted ass off of it!"

The television announcer was shouting excitedly again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! I have a very special guest here with me right now. She is the co-star of Purple Rain, the very lovely and talented Ms. Apollonia Kotero!"

Dean's eyebrows shot skyward at once.

"Oh ho!" he grinned, letting go of Sam's hand and eagerly bounding down the stairs, "Speaking of lighting someone's fire, I wonder what the very lovely and talented Ms. Apollonia Kotero is wearing… or better yet not wearing…"

"Dean, gimme a break," Sam let out an exasperated sigh as he continued down the stairs on his own, "You're a 28 year old man in a five year old body- neither of which makes you a teenager! For once in your life, can you just cool it with the raging hormoOOOOHHHHNNNNES!"

Sam cried out suddenly as his bare foot slipped off the edge of the step that his much too short legs had completely misjudged. The Pooh Bear flew out of his hand, bouncing off each and every wooden plank as it tumbled all the way down. Sam made a desperate grab for the railing as his flailing limbs tried and failed to regain his balance. His tiny hands caught nothing but air and then his small body was toppling forward.

As the sharp hardwood edges flew up to greet him, his panicked mind could only wonder if he would bounce as high as the Pooh Bear once he hit the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10-

"SQUEAK!"

It was the distressed cry of a tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff that caught Dean's attention first. Seeing the plush toy bounce on impact up to his eye level, he instantly wondered what had caused Sam to finally loosen his death grip on the friggin' bear. He looked up just in time to spy his brother's fragile form teetering precariously near the top of the stairs before losing his balance all together and falling forward.

"SAMMY!" Dean was up the stairs in a flash, catching Sam around the shoulders and lifting him up before he could slam head first against the steps. He swept the smaller boy into his arms and carried him the rest of the way down to the landing.

"I gotcha! I gotcha!" he repeated over and over as he squeezed his brother tight; all previous thoughts of the lovely and talented Apollonia obliterated by the defenseless and breakable Sammy, "You're ok! You're ok! Right? You're ok?"

"ACK! Oxygen. Oxygen would be good right about now," Sam winced in the bone crushing embrace. He giggled nervously as Dean eased up but continued to hold him close, "Been a while since I took a header down a flight of stairs without a poltergeist giving me a shove first."

"Dude, not funny," Dean set Sam down then put his hands on his knees trying to slow his breathing, "You almost gave me a heart attack! Jeez, I really did forget how hard it was to earn the title of World's Most Awesome Big Brother at this age. We've both gotta be a lot more careful, Sammy. The last thing we need right now is a trip to the Emergency Room…"

Dean stood up straight suddenly eyeing Sam with a sly smile.

"On second thought, a trip to the Emergency Room is exactly what we need!"

"Excuse me?" Sam blinked.

"That's our ticket out of here, Bro," Dean beamed, "Scary Poppins in there might not care about taking us to a safe house or even to the Park, but she's not going to deny us a trip to the Hospital if you're having a genuine medical emergency!"

Sam stood gaping up at his brother.

"So… you want me to throw myself down the steps?" he asked cautiously.

"Don't sweat it, Small Stuff," Dean said glancing around the room until his eyes fell on a pencil holder full of colorful markers, "I got a better idea!"

He snatched up a fat red magic marker and removed the cap, handing it to Sam.

"Am I supposed to swallow this?" Sam furrowed his brow, looking down at the object in his hand.

"Just hold still," Dean said.

Before Sam could question him further Dean took the marker and began dotting big round spots over every inch of the younger boy's exposed skin.

"DUDE!" Sam howled in protest.

"I said hold still!" Dean grabbed at his squirming sibling, "It won't look right if you smudge the Pox!"

"The what!" Sam yelped as Dean flipped him onto his butt and started decorating his bare legs.

"Chicken Pox!" Dean announced, continuing his art work, "Very dangerous to children your age! She's gonna have to drive us straight to the Hospital and then we'll be surrounded by doctors and nurses and security personnel. Gordon won't be able to touch us!"

"Are you insane!" Sam raged, "She's never gonna fall for this!"

"Sam, we're talking about a girl with more hairspray than brain cells between her ears. This never fooled Dad, but to her, it'll look like Chicken Pox. Now act sick!"

"Will this stuff wash off?" Sam whined, grabbing onto the fallen Pooh Bear as Dean took him by the other hand and led him towards the living room.

"It did last time," Dean shrugged.

"What last time?" Sam gasped, "Wait...What did you mean this never fooled Dad?...Dude! You've done this to me before?"

"What can I say, Sammy," Dean smirked, "I was an overly creative child at this age and you were my Muse!"

"You… How could you… Why would you… I swear to God, Dean! You will so pay for this!"

"Save it, Sick Boy. We gotta pull one over on Stupor Nanny in here first."

"Drawing on the baby," Sam grumbled, "So not earning you the title of World's Most Awesome Big Brother!"

"I said save it!"

They found the teenage girl lying stretched out on the couch, smoking yet another cigarette and scattering ash over the hardwood floor. She had dragged the phone in from the kitchen and was twirling the long cord around her ankle as she stared transfixed at the television screen.

"Ohmigod, Debbie!" Tiffany squealed into the phone, "Like Purple Rain looks sooo tubular and Prince is such a total fox! I know he's a midget an' all, but he'll totally look taller on the big screen. Oh, what a bummer you like moved to West Virginia or we could totally go see it together… But this is totally bitchin' getting to watch MTV together again! Sooo glad Old Man Winchester has Cable!"

"Wow, you weren't kidding," Sam uttered, as Dean gave a solemn nod, "You mean to tell me Dad couldn't understand a word coming out of my mouth but he was able to communicate with Queen Dunderhead here?"

"…Oh, I don't know when I'll like get to come over here again," the girl went on, not even acknowledging the presence of the young Winchesters, "The Old Man said something like if his business trip was a bust he might need me to baby-sit next Full Moon or some stuff, but who knows when that is… Yeah, just one little rug rat an' he's a total spazz. I should totally lock him in the closet before Topher gets here so we can like make out in peace…"

Dean tugged at the phone cord, snapping his fingers in front of the girl's face.

"Whoa! Hey, no!" he said, "Someone here needs to cool it with the raging hormones besides me! Look, Sammy's sick. Real sick. You gotta take us to the Hospital right now!"

He nudged Sam who coughed pathetically, looking up at the sitter with extra sad puppy eyes.

"Say what?" the teen sat up suddenly, a look of extreme horror crossing her face as she finally took note of the tiny child standing before her, "Oh! My! God!"

For the first time since meeting his caretaker, Dean actually felt a glimmer of hope stirring inside of him. She had taken the bait. She was finally going to her duty, look after their needs and get them away from the house…"

"Debbie, I'm totally buggin' fer reals!" Tiffany shrieked, "This like extra rug rat just totally showed up out of no where! You mean there really are two little bratazoids running around loose in this house? No way! I can't believe Old Man Winchester actually spawned twice! He's like 100 or something, I'm shurr! Oh and gag me with a spoon already! This one's not even housebroken! Barf me out, fer reals!"

Both Sam and Dean's jaws dropped at once.

"Romper Room," the girl settled back down on the couch before lazily addressing Dean, "You are totally on Pamper Patrol. I don't do diapers! ... So, anyway, Debbie. Yeah, Topher is totally coming here straight after work an' he's buying me like a ton of new tuneskis! It totally rocks having a boyfriend working at the record store, fer shurr!"

"Dean, what the Hell!" Sam snapped, "What was Dad thinking? We'd be better off with a Shtriga for a sitter!"

"I'm not so sure she isn't a Shtriga," Dean said, raising an eyebrow, "I've definitely been feeling the life force drain out of me since I met her!"

The older boy shook his head to snap himself out of it and quickly got back to the matter at hand.

"Ok, Princess, off the phone, now! Goof off time is over. We're having serious medical emergency here! My Dad told you he thought Sam was coming down with something, remember? Well, turns out he's got Chicken Pox! Just look at him, he's covered in the stuff! Do you know how deadly this is to little babies? He needs a doctor! Now get your car keys and let's go!"

"As if!" the teen snorted, blowing smoke in the young boys' direction, "I don't have a car! I walked here, Lameoid!"

"Ok, then we'll have to get to a neighbor's house and get them to drive us," Sam insisted, tugging at the girl's arm, "Please, we've all just got to go now before it's too late!"

"UGH! Stop pawing at me, Sesame Street!" Tiffany whined, "I swear to God, Debbie. The little Winchester spawn is just as annoying as the bigger one but there's more slobber involved and he's talking in some dweebish language like he's E.T. or something. Like 'Phone Home', I'm shurr!"

"He said we need to get to a neighbor's house," Dean translated tersely, "Now move it, Little Miss Marlboro!"

"Oh, like what neighbors?" the teen rolled her eyes, "Everyone in this lameoid town is totally at work or in Summer School this time of day. No one's ever here except me and like Old Lady Moseley and she totally split last night."

"Oh, well, that's just great," Dean spat, "At least now we know what your qualifications for child care provider are… You're the only friggin' person around!"

"Wait, no neighbors?" Sam looked to Dean, his face paling beneath the red dots, "So… there's no one else who could help us? No one who could take us some place safe or protect us from Gordon… or even from Tiffany! The closest thing we have to a responsible adult for miles and miles is a girl who decided a fishing net would make a great halter top?… Oh God, Dean… I think I really am gonna be sick!"

He crumpled to the floor, moaning as he rocked back and forth with the Pooh Bear clenched in his arms. Dean flew into action, unsure now how much of Sam's 'illness' was still just an act.

"For God's sake, woman!" Dean shouted, "He's fading fast! Do something! Call 911! They had 911 back in '84, right? Call an ambulance! Hell, call a pizza delivery boy! Anyone who can take us away from here!"

He grabbed at the phone, struggling to pull it out of Tiffany's grasp.

"Hello, Debbie!" he screamed into the receiver, "Debbie in West Virginia, can you hear me? My baby brother is very very sick. He's delirious with fever and developing an unnatural attachment to a friggin' bear! Your friend is a moron, Debbie! Talk to her! Tell her to call 911! Save us, Debbie! Save us!"

"Knock it off, fer reals, Romper Room!" Tiffany jerked the phone back and shoved Dean to the floor, "This is like a very important conversation, an' stuff!"

Dean crawled back up to the couch and pushed his little face right into the babysitter's.

"You listen to me you walking Surgeon General's Warning!" he seethed, "Your only purpose on this planet right now is to take care of John Winchester's kids! My Daddy owns every weapon known to mankind and he can field dress a chupacabra in 45 minutes flat! What do you think he'll do to you when he finds out you've been drinking his beer, making long distance calls and refusing to get his critically ill child to the hospital? DO YOUR JOB! GET US SOME HELP!"

The girl made a long exasperated groan letting her head fall back dramatically over the couch's arm rest.

"Oh, God, Debbie, lemme call you back!" she huffed, standing up at last, "Rug Rat # 2 is like dying or some stuff!"

She marched off towards the kitchen, untangling herself from the long phone cord as she went. Dean sank down beside his brother wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"It's gonna be okay, Sam," he said, still shaking with leftover rage, "She's gonna call for help. Get us out of here. Get us to some people who can watch out for us. Keep us safe 'til Dad gets back. Gordon'll never find us... You okay? Feel better now?"

"Um hmm," Sam nodded his spot covered face beaming at Dean appreciatively, "That was an impressive outburst, Dude."

"What can I say," Dean gave a lopsided grin, "I've always been a smooth talker with the ladies."

"Oh, bitchin' idea, Debbie!" Tiffany exclaimed, "I think Old Man Winchester did like mention something about that... Catch ya later, Gator. Ciao!"

The Winchesters watched in puzzlement as their babysitter hung the phone back up on the kitchen wall. But instead of picking the receiver back up and dialing 911, she stomped off towards the bathroom. Moments later she returned carrying a long slender object in her hand.

"What is that thing?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Baby thermometer," she answered, making a bee-line for Sam.

Before either brother could utter another word the teenager scooped Sam up off the floor and quickly flipped him head over heels.

"AHHHH! DEAN!" Sam cried, reaching out as he dangled perilously in the air. "HELP!"

"What do you think you're doing?" Dean roared, trying to grab hold of Sam's hands. "Let go of him! Why aren't you calling an ambulance?"

"Yeah right! Like I'm gonna get busted for a crank call! As if!" Tiffany sneered as she jostled Sam in her arms and kept him out of Dean's reach. "I'm gonna take the brat's temperature first to make sure he's not like totally fakin' it!"

"UGH! Dean!" Sam groaned, squirming in Tiffany's grip, "Blood... rushing to head... Contents of stomach... may follow!"

"Of course, he's not faking it!" Dean insisted, fearfully hovering beneath his brother in case the crazy bitch dropped him, "And you're gonna make him even sicker shaking him around like that, damn it! Why are you holding him upside down?"

"Like Duh," the girl scoffed as she patted her hand against Sam's diapered behind, "Baby thermometer goes in this end, fer shurr!"

Sam's eyes snapped wide open.

"OH, GOD NO!" he screamed, kicking and flailing in the teen's grasp, "NO! NO! NO! LEMME GO! LEMME GO! LEMME GO! NOOOOOOOOO!"

"Ohmigod, kid!" Tiffany snapped, "Hold still! Do you want me to like totally break it off in your butt or some stuff?"

"STOP!" Sam shrieked, "NO! JUST... DON'T!...I'M FAKING IT! I'M FAKING IT I SWEAR! TELL HER DEAN! TELL HER PLEASE! DON'T LET HER... NO! HELP! DEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAN!"

Dean couldn't believe it had all come down to this. The last thing he'd expected when he woke up this morning was to be negotiating a hostage situation while a chain-smoking Madonna wanna-be threatened his younger brother with a rectal thermometer.

"All right! All right!" he shouted over Sam's hysteria, "He doesn't have Chicken Pox! It's just magic marker! Now just please! Drop the thermometer and gently hand the kid over to me!"

Tiffany eyed the pleading young boy before her cooly, poor Sam still hanging limp and inverted in her arms.

"You total booger bucket!" she hissed, "You were gonna like make me call 911 on a bogus alarm! As if! That's it I'm totally locking you both in the closet 'til Old Man Winchester gets home!"

"Big problem there," Dean said, desperately, "Gordon Walker is gonna get here long before Dad does!"

"Oh, again with the Gordon Walker," Tiffany huffed, grabbing Dean's arm with her free hand as she wrangled both children towards the hall closet, "When he gets here, I'll totally tell him where to find you an' stuff, fer reals!"

"NO! No please!" Dean cried, desperately digging in his heels, "We'll be sitting ducks in there!"

"Dean…" Sam said weakly, gazing upside down into his brother's eyes, "Save yourself, man. I'll puke on her shoes! You make a run for it!"

"There's no such thing as toddler martyrdom, Sam!" Dean snapped, "All right! Look lady. We'll be good we promise! We're just acting out 'cause... 'cause... 'cause we're hungry! That's right! Dad told you to fix us breakfast, didn't he?"

"Ohmigod!" Tiffany snorted, "I didn't think he was like serious!"

"Yes, just put Sammy down so you can fix us something to eat. Then we'll be quiet and stay out of your overly teased hair for the rest of the day!"

The teen seemed to consider this a long while.

"Ok, like whatevers!" she said, "Ohmigod! Babysitting is so totally hard!"

She spun on her heel and stomped off towards the kitchen still carrying Sam with her.

"Deeeeeeeeeaaaaannnn!" Sam called out as he disappeared around the corner.

Dean hurried after them, his mind racing to figure out his next move. God help them both, but he wondered if they would survive long enough for Gordon to kill them.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11-

It was no real surprise to either Winchester brother that breakfast at Tiffany's hand proved to be as much of a nightmare as everything else in this ridiculous day had been.

Sam sat unhappily wedged in a high chair, surrounded by a disgusting array of jarred goop representing every color of some putrid rainbow. Each strained and puréed vegetable looked and smelled more nauseating than the next. Luckily, he had yet to find out what any of them tasted like. Tiffany was on the phone again, pacing back and forth across the kitchen as she alternated between taking a puff on her cigarette, haphazardly spreading peanut butter and jelly onto slices of Wonderbread, and shoveling random spoonfuls of baby food towards the captive toddler. She hadn't managed to actually hit the kid's mouth once and Sam's face and hair were slowly becoming a bizarre modern art exhibit of congealed multi-colored glop.

Dean wasn't fairing much better on his side of the table. Tiffany had prepared a glass of milk with powdered Strawberry Quik but hadn't bothered to stir the mixture before slinging it down in front of the preschooler. Dean couldn't decide which was more off-putting: the soggy lumps of pink powder floating in a slushy sea of frothy white or the overly precious Care Bear cup that the nasty mess was sitting in. Thirst and Winchester tenacity soon led the boy to brave a sip, but that was interrupted as Tiffany marched back towards the counter smacking Dean full in the face with the phone cord as she went.

"Sonofa..." he hissed as the gritty pink milk sloshed up his nose.

"Sooo... anyway Debbie. I so totally can't wait 'til Topher gets here! We're gonna like drink beer and watch rated 'R' movies on Cinemax. It'll be like sooo grown up, fer reals..."

The teenager finally remembered why she had been fixing a sandwich and slapped the two pieces of bread together before slamming her culinary masterpiece down on Dean's plate.

"Thank you... it looks very appetizing..." he grimaced, delicately picking up the mangled mass of peanut butter and jelly.

Before he could take a bite the girl whapped him in the back of the head with the phone cord as she stomped over to force another spoonful of strained peas in Sam's direction.

"DAMN IT!" both Winchesters snapped simultaneously as Dean's face was rammed into the sticky sandwich and Sam caught an eyeful of pea green goop.

"Oh, as if, Debbie!" Tiffany giggled, "Of course I'm not gonna like go all the way with Topher! Not even! You know I'm totally saving myself for George Michael!"

"Heh heh heh! Good luck with that one, Sweetheart," Dean cackled, "Better start hanging out in the Men's Room!"

He waited until the phone cord was well out of range before picking the sandwich back up and taking a triumphant bite.

"SONOFABITCH!" he howled, spitting the morsel back out on to the plate.

Dean furiously peeled the Wonderbread apart to find the peanut butter and jelly filling completely covered in cigarette ash. Sam started to snicker at his brother's outrage but his mirth was cut off as Tiffany finally hit his mouth with a heaping spoonful of strained prunes.

"BLEEGGHH!" Sam cried, spitting out the horrid purple gunk.

The brothers exchanged a look of utter disbelief and misery just as the catchy finger snaps and synthesized organ music of Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go came blasting out from the television in the next room.

"OOOH! Tubular!" Tiffany squealed, "My future husband's on MTV right now!"

She scampered off into the living room lassoing Dean with the phone cord and knocking him out of his chair as she went. He lay sprawled on the floor covered in ashy PB&J smearings for a long moment before finally sitting up and running a weary hand down his face.

"I could go for a beer right now," he muttered without irony, "How about you, Sam?"

"Sure, just pour some in my sippy cup," Sam deadpanned.

Dean shook his head as he got to his feet and walked over to the sink. Standing on tip-toes he wet a dish towel and wiped his own sticky face before carrying the cloth over to wash the baby food off of Sam.

"Sammy is a messy baby," he sing-songed as he cleaned his brother up.

"DUDE!" Sam balled his little hands into fists shooting daggers at Dean.

"Sorry, force of habit..." Dean said, sheepishly, "I meant Sam... Sam is a messy baby... I mean...Uhh... I'll shut up now..."

"Dean, what the Hell are we gonna do?" Sam huffed, "Dad's gone. There're no neighbors around. The one person who's supposed to be watching out for us is libel to give us food poisoning or strangle us with that phone cord before Gordon even gets here... I mean forget all the monsters and demonic forces that have plagued us all our lives. How did we manage to survive childhood with Tiffany as our caretaker?"

"She wasn't our usual sitter," Dean shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck, "Dad used to drop us off somewhere... a neighbor's house I think."

"What neighbor?" Sam asked, "Tiffany said no one was ever around except her and..."

"Old Lady Moseley!" Dean's eyes widened with sudden recognition, "Missouri!"

"You mean Dad's psychic friend who helped us get rid of that poltergeist?" Sam blinked, "She used to baby-sit us? I don't remember that."

"Well, neither did I," Dean said, "But this morning, Dad mentioned something about not being able to drop us at her house like usual... I was so busy trying to convince him to stay that I didn't catch it at the time. But it makes sense. She was the only person who knew what was going on when he first started hunting. Of course he would trust her to watch after us. And now that I think back on it, it seems we did have a babysitter who always knew exactly what kind of trouble I was going to get into before I even had a chance to start it up... I have some vague recollection of a big woman chasing after me with a big spoon and... I think I must have blocked out the rest..."

"So, let's wrestle the phone away from Tiffany and call Missouri right now!" Sam said excitedly.

"No... She's out of town," Dean sighed, and then looked at Sam hopefully, "But you can call her, Bro!"

"Huh?"

"Your powers, Dude!" Dean beamed, "Why didn't I think of this before! You can contact her on the Psychic Hotline or whatever you call that mystical connection you Shirley MacLaine types possess!"

"Dean, I don't know how to channel somebody," Sam scoffed, "I've never done anything like that before. Hell, I barely understand how my powers work as it is."

"Well, we gotta try something!" Dean said desperately, "Do it! Call her with your mind!"

"Help us, Missouri Moseley... You're our only hope," Sam uttered doubtfully, "Dude, I don't think this is gonna work. We gotta try something more proactive. Maybe we can break into the house next door and use their phone to call the police."

"No way," Dean shook his head, "We don't dare venture out into the open. Best to stay here and protect our turf! Look, the Professor said another Time Portal would open within 24 hours, right? Well, it was about 7:00 at night when we left. It's almost 11:00 now so all we have to do is hold Gordon off for about 8 hours and we're home free!"

"Ok, and exactly how do we do that?" Sam asked bemused, "Or have you forgotten that you're wearing shorts with little tigers on the pockets and I'm sitting in a high chair?"

"You have major size issues, you know that, Gigantour?" Dean rolled his eyes, "Physically we may be kids, but we've had 20 plus years of survival tactics drilled into our head by John Winchester himself! Quick sweep of the house to build up an arsenal and we can totally pull a Macauley Caulkin on Gordon's crazy ass."

A mischievous grin spread over Dean's face suddenly. Sam watched curiously as he hurried over towards the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a pair of tongs, another dish towel and an oversized pair of rubber gloves.

"Besides, the son of bitch doesn't stand a chance against the ultimate weapon at our disposal!" he said donning the gloves and tying the dish towel over his nose and mouth.

"Dude, you're not gonna try to make an explosive out of household chemicals are you?" Sam asked nervously.

Dean shook his head and rushed up the stairs. He returned moments later holding an object at arms length in the tongs. Sam recognized the object at once... his own soiled diaper.

"What do you think you're gonna do with that?" Sam frowned.

"Drop it on Gordon's head!" Dean announced, "It should distract him enough to let go of his gun and then we go in for the kill!"

"Dean, have you lost your ever loving mind?" Sam snapped, "We're not going to drop a dirty diaper on someone's head! That's disgusting!"

"This came out of your body, Sam!" Dean said, "Besides, it's Gordon!"

Sam cocked his head thoughtfully.

"If I had some food that didn't come pureed out of a jar in my stomach, I might actually be able to come up with more ammo!"

"That's the spirit, kiddo!" Dean said gleefully setting the diaper aside and hurrying to wash his hands, "Just you sit tight, Bro. I knew my way around the kitchen even at this age. I'm gonna whip us a feast of epic proportions just like old times!"

"Oh. You mean you're gonna heat up a can a Scabetti-O's?" Sam snarked.

"...Yes, I'm gonna heat up a can of Scabetti-O's," Dean sulked.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12-

After a hearty breakfast, Dean got them both cleaned up and then let Sam ride piggyback up the stairs all the while insisting that the normally taller boy would have to return the favor once they were full grown again. Zipping into his own room, Dean got down on his knees and helped Sam climb off before turning to fling open a large box of toys, beaming proudly at the bounty inside.

"What'd I tell ya, Sammy?" Dean put his knuckles on his hips as he puffed out his little chest, "Even at five, Dean Winchester had a fully stocked armory in his trunk!"

Sam raised his eyebrows, sifting through the playthings before picking up a familiar figure.

"Yeah, I'm sure Gordon Walker will be quaking in his boots when he sees you wielding a deadly Mr. Potato Head," he snorted, "Maybe if you swap out his googly eyes for his angry ones…"

"Do not mock the Potato Head!" Dean said, snatching the toy away, "Besides, we're Winchesters. You know we can turn anything at hand into a weapon! Now help me pull this stuff out."

"Where'd you get all these toys, Dean?" Sam wondered, "I don't remember us ever really having any toys at all… and before you say it, Sapphire Barbie doesn't count!"

"Most of 'em were donated after the fire," Dean shrugged, "I think folks felt sorry for us and pitched in to get us some nice clothes and toys. Probably helped Dad get set up in this rental house as well. We had it pretty sweet for a while. But it wasn't too much longer… heck, probably just a few months after this werewolf gig that Dad got the hunting bug bad. He broke his lease here, skipped town and sold off all our toys for ammo."

"All of our toys?" Sam frowned, clinging tighter to the Pooh Bear.

"Yeah, Sam. All of 'em." Dean said solemnly, "So better start weaning yourself off that friggin' bear! Besides we're gonna be out of here and all grown up again in less than eight hours. You think you're gonna drag Pooh with you back to the future?"

"Maybe…" Sam said with a determined pout.

"Ok… that's all kinds of disturbing…" Dean uttered, "Come on, knock it off with the toddler Emo for now. We need to get into survival mode here. We've gotta devise some kind of booby trap to stop Gordon before he even gets to the house. Killing him out right would be all kinds of awesome. But it would be enough to knock him out of commission long enough to get the police over here, or better yet until Dad gets home and can deal with him vengeful, pissed off John Winchester style. But if Gordon does breach the house, we'll have to be ready to launch a full scale attack and take him down before he gets one shot at us."

Sam let out a long shuddering sigh.

"Dude, I know we don't have a lot of options here," he said carefully, "But going up against Gordon head on? That is so risky, Bro! He's carrying an M-16! What have we got? A used diaper, a Mr. Potato Head who's missing an ear by the way, and maybe this…"

Sam extracted a cheap plastic bow from the toy chest and pulled back on the flimsy string to shoot a suction cup arrow towards his brother, hitting Dean square between the eyes.

"Nice shot," Dean grimaced, plucking the arrow off his forehead, "And OW… That actually hurt a little bit. So see? This could be useful… Maybe you could take Gordon's eye out!"

"Dean…" Sam sighed, "The odds of us standing a snowball's chance in Hell…"

"Sammy," Dean held up his hand, "A wise Space Pirate by the name of Han Solo once said, 'Never tell me the odds!' Yeah, ok I get what you're saying. We're unevenly matched against Gordon. But so was David against Goliath and we all know who won that battle don't we?… It… it was David, right?"

"Yes Dean."

"Well, there ya go! And unlike David, there are two of us and we have a heck of a lot more than a sling shot at our disposal! Sooo… first things first. Let's get bullet proof!"

Dean dug around in the toy box until he found a kid sized breast plate designed to look like Boba Fett's armor. He put it on and then went in search for the head piece. Unable to find more than a cheap cardboard Boba Fett mask, he opted for a plastic motor cycle helmet instead.

"Check me out, Bro. Didn't know they made Riot Gear for Kindergarteners did ya?" he asked Sam, choosing to ignore when the younger boy's expression instantly switched from Emo to bitchface, "And for you…"

He shuffled through the trunk's contents again, this time coming up with a plastic construction hat which he placed on Sam's head. The helmet promptly slid down covering the toddler's face. Dean frowned and pushed it back up only to have it slide back down again.

"Ok. So it's not exactly one size fits all, but it could work."

"Yeah, sure it'll work," Sam snotted, "If you can find an Indian War Bonnet in there for Tiffany and a cowboy hat for Gordon we could all sing YMCA, that's how well it'll work."

"Smart ass," Dean sulked, "You need some body armor. Maybe I can find like a mini-umpire's vest or something…"

Sam stood by silently as Dean dove head first into the toy chest and began rummaging around through its depths. He held the Pooh Bear to his side and was patiently squeezing it's belly when an idea occurred to him. Pushing the domed helmet back from his eyes, he scanned the pile of discarded toys until he spied a miniature Batman Utility Belt that would suit his purpose.

Dean emerged from the chest finally with a heaping armful of toys including a G.I. Joe walkie-talkie set that he held in each hand. He glanced over at his brother then squeezed his eyes shut tight. Cautiously opening his eyes again he was dismayed that the vision hadn't changed.

Sam was standing there before him, his little face half concealed by the construction helmet and the Pooh Bear cinched to his waist just above his diaper with the Batman Belt so that it completely covered his tiny torso

"Dude!" Dean snapped, "What is up with you and that friggin' bear!"

"Body armor," Sam deadpanned.

"Body armor…" Dean parroted quietly, "You're actually trusting Winnie the Pooh to have enough fluff in his tummy to stop a bullet?"

"As much as I'm trusting a construction hat that says 'Tonka' on it," Sam sassed, lifting the hat up to glare at his brother.

"Never mind," Dean huffed, "If all goes according to plan, it won't even be an issue. I think I've got everything we need right here to trap us a big ass M-16 toting rat. Goliath is going down, Dude!"


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13-

It was a tense half hour as Dean ventured outside to set up the trap while Sam covered him from the second story window with nothing more than the suction cup bow and arrow. But now the elder Winchester was safely back inside the house and in position.

He crouched down beside the front door, still panting from the adrenaline rush as he finished arranging his meager arsenal beside the doggie door. The Winchesters had never owned a dog as far as he could remember, but luckily someone who had occupied this rental house had as the opening suited his purposes quite nicely.

Lifting the flap on the mail slot to scan the perimeter outside, he could clearly see the "X" he had marked on the sidewalk in brightly colored chalk. He nodded with satisfaction and then raised the G.I. Joe walkie-talkie to his mouth to check in with his brother upstairs.

"Ok, Sam. All circuits go! I've rigged the alert system to the front gate. When Gordon enters, he'll trip the string that'll trigger the Talking Mr. T Doll. You should be able to hear this clearly over the Baby Monitor and that'll be your signal to get into position with the Ewok Village Catapult. I'll be watching through the mail slot. As soon as Gordon hits the 'X' I'll send the remote control Dukes of Hazzard car through the doggie dog. Once you hear the General Lee's horn you launch the diaper with the Catapult. If my calculations are correct the diaper should land right on his head while the remote control car trips him up. If that doesn't stop him you will launch an assault of suction cup arrows, aiming for his eyes, while I open the door and field kick the Mr. Potato Head right at his skull. Once the enemy is subdued I'll tie him up with the Fraggle Rock jump rope and that'll hold him 'til Dad gets home. Do you copy that, Sam?... I said Sam do you copy?... SAM!... Sammy?"

Dean shook the walkie-talkie in his hand, slapping at it with mounting concern until he heard a long audible sigh come through the receiver.

"I just can't believe we've been reduced to this…" Sam said miserably. "This has got to be the craziest scheme you've ever cooked up."

"Hey, well, my schemes may be crazy, but they always work don't they?" Dean grinned, "So this should be the most successful one yet, right? In the meantime, you keep on channeling Missouri. If she actually hears you and gets here before Gordon… she can help you aim the diaper!"

"Dean!"

"All right, I mean she can get us safely to the police," Dean rolled his eyes before muttering under his breath, "You're no fun… And Sammy. You keep down out of sight. I mean it! You're Gordon's main target and he's probably going to be scoping out the place to figure out which room is the nursery. So no peeking out the window! You hear me? Just let the Mr. T Doll do its work."

"Yes Dean."

Now it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. But he ducked down beneath the window all the same. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest nervously squeezing them against the Pooh Bear strapped to his waist.

SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK…squeak squeak squeak… SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean asked sharply.

"What? Nothing. Nothing's wrong," Sam said, then added, "Well, other than the fact that I'm waiting for Mr. T to tell me when to catapult a diaper at gun wielding maniac."

"Dude, you're squeaking out 'SOS'!" Dean snapped.

"I am?"

"Yeah, now cut it out unless you have a real emergency! It's making me nervous and we need to stay calm and focused!"

Hmm hmm hmm hmmmm… hmm hmm hmm hmm… Duh duh duh duh DUN!... Hmm hmm hmm hmmmm… hmm hmm hmm hmm…Duh duh duh duh DUN!

"Dude!" Sam snapped back, "You're humming Metallica!"

"So?" Dean spat, "It calms me down!"

"But Dude… For Whom the Bell Tolls?" Sam scoffed, "How is that helping this situation?"

"What's wrong with that… You know…Maybe the bell tolls for Gordon!"

"It might toll for us!" Sam hissed.

SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK!

"Damn it, Sam! Knock it off with that friggin' Bear!" Dean shouted then quickly pulled himself together, "Sorry. Sorry. Look, Sammy. Just take deep breaths ok? Concentrate on channeling Missouri, and… Say your prayers, Little One… Don't forget my son… to include everyone…"

"Oh my God, Dean!" Sam cried, "Are you now singing Metallica?"

"No…" Dean chuckled nervously, "That just slipped out. Nothing to have a hissy about. Just chill... Chill is the air cold as steel tonight… we shift… call of the wild… fear in your eyes… it's later than you realized…"

"What the… You are singing Metallica!"

"S…So?" Dean stammered, "Don't be worrying about what I'm doing… You just look alive, Soldier…Soldier boy… made of clay… now an empty shell…"

"Oh, that's a cheerful image! What is wrong with you? Gordon is on his way here! This is no time for doom and gloom Karaoke!"

"I… I can't help it," Dean insisted, "It's a compulsion! It only happens when I'm really really freaked out and… Old habits reappear… fighting the fear of fear… growing conspiracy… everyone's after me… frayed ends of sanity… hear them calling me…"

Dean clamped his free hand over his mouth.

"Sorry!" he muttered against his palm.

"Frayed ends of sanity is right," Sam grumbled.

SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK!

"Sam! I swear! Don't make me take that bear away from you!"

"Try it and I'll be flinging the diaper in your direction!" Sam growled, "This whole situation is nuts! Your singing is making me mental and this friggin' bear is the only thing keeping me from losing it all together!"

SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK!

"That friggin' bear's a pain in my ass… and the pain still hates me… so hold me… until it sleeps…"

"I would hold you but I'm manning the Catapult, remember?" Sam said tightly.

"Dude, come on!" Dean said, "We've both gotta pull ourselves together. 'Cause when Gordon gets here…"

"I PITY THE FOOL!" said the Mr. T Doll.

"Holy Crap!" both Winchesters cried at once.

"Stay down, Sammy!" Dean whispered in warning.

Dean spun around and looked out through the mail slot. He saw a pair of leather clad legs come slowly through the gate, pausing to curiously nudge at the fallen Mr. T Doll with a booted foot. His whole being began to quake with rage as well as fear. He'd expected Gordon to ditch his prison orange jump suit once he made it back in time. But leather pants? Was the son of a bitch really cocky enough to actually dress the part of The Terminator?

He smiled thinking of what he and Sam had in store for their nemesis.

"Where's your crown King Nothing?" he sang out softly imagining the diaper landing right on top of Gordon's head.

"D…Dean…" Sam whimpered over the walkie-talkie.

squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak…

"Get into position, Sam!" Dean ordered in a hushed voice as he watched the leather legs approaching the "X", "He's close… so close no matter how far… couldn't be much more from the heart…forever trusting who we are… and nothing else matters…"

"No ballads, Dean!" Sam whispered, as he toddled forward, "You know I'm susceptible to lullabies right now!"

Heart racing, Sam made his way towards the Catapult. He fell twice, landing hard against the Pooh Bear, the construction hat sliding down to his chin. But at last he was able to feel his way to the Catapult, his little hands trembling on the fake Ewok tree branch release as he awaited Dean's signal.

Downstairs, Dean watched unblinking, waiting for the moment when the booted feet approaching the door would hit their mark. Time slowed to a crawl. His little thumbs hovered nervously over the remote control switches as sweat trickled down his tiny temples. He licked at his lips, unable to control the words that spilled softly out of them…

"Die die die my darling… don't utter a single word…"

Oh, good Lord! Dean cringed at himself. He'd flipped over into Misfits covers! Before he could ponder if that was a sign his compulsion was getting worse or better Gordon's big evil booted feet stepped squarely onto the pink chalk "X".

"Now, Sam!" Dean cried, "Now is the death of doers wrong… swing the judgment hammer down!"

Sam could only guess that meant it was launch time. He pulled with all his might on the release lever sending the soiled Pampers sailing through the open window. In the same moment, Dean revved up the remote control General Lee and the miniature '69 Dodge Charger roared forward blaring out "Dixie" as it flew through the doggie door.

"YEE HAH!" Dean shouted in triumph.

"What the!" a startled voice cried from outside.

Sam quickly toddled back to the window trying to follow the diaper's trajectory. The construction helmet fell back over his eyes before he could see where it landed but the high pitched and horrified shriek that came at once from below told him of the direct hit!

Dean watched with eager eyes as the leather legs and booted feet began a crazy stumbling dance across the cement sidewalk while the tiny orange Confederate Flag topped vehicle chased and nipped at the assailant's heels. He expertly guided the remote control car as if he was behind the wheel of his own beloved Impala, waiting for the moment when the giant man would come crashing to the ground or at least drop his gun. Dean saw the Pampers come plunging down from the man's head and knew at least part of the plan had worked.

"Sam!" he called up the stairs, "Hit him with the arrows! Go for the eyes!"

Sam fumbled for the cheap plastic bow, the construction helmet now completely obstructing his view. He shot out blindly and was impressed to hear a series of yelps and yowls letting him know he was making at least some solid hits.

But then as Dean looked on in horror, the big booted feet finally landed solidly on the sidewalk and kicked his precious car off into the grass. Swallowing hard he watched as the feet marched purposely towards the house, flinging the screen door open in a rage. Sheer panic nearly froze him in place.

"Now the world is gone… I'm just one… oh God help me!" he sang in a trembling voice.

Instinctively he scooted away until his butt bumped against something solid on the floor. He looked down and saw his back up plan… the Mr. Potato Head already positioned in a plastic football tee. Winchester determination flooded Dean's veins and he quickly scrambled to his feet. Fearlessly flinging open the front door, he rushed back behind the Potato Head, not even wasting a moment to look up as the man stepped into the house. With nerves of steel, Dean suddenly switched from singing Metallica to quoting Al Pachino.

"Say hello to my little friend!" he hollered, kicking the Mr. Potato Head right at the crazy killer's cranium.

The toy spud hit the man right on his acne covered forehead, bouncing off his white spiky hair before tumbling back towards a flabbergasted Dean. The young man's eyes rolled to their whites and then his teenage body crashed backwards through the open door.

"Sonofabitch…" Dean uttered surveying the fallen form of his victim.

Upstairs Sam dropped his bow and arrow and pulled off the construction helmet to finally get a clear view outside. His little eyes bulged out when he caught sight of the spiky haired leather clad youth laying unconscious below. The completely unfamiliar and definitely non-Gordon spiky haired leather clad youth. Chewing on his lip he raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth to ask:

"Dean… did we just kill Billy Idol?"


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14-

"Topher!"

Tiffany came trampling in from the living room, teased bangs and mini-skirt all a-flutter as she skidded to a halt bending down next to the still form of Billy Idol's zit covered look-a-like.

"Oh! You like total fart baggers!" she whined, "You totally killed my boyfriend, fer shurr! Bummer-Rama! It took me like forever to train him! Now I'll totally have to start all over again with a new guy, fer reals!"

Dean cocked an eyebrow and knelt down beside the youth, checking his pulse and lifting his eyelids. The boy had the imprint of Mr. Potato Head's lips on his forehead and a couple suction cup arrows stuck to his cheeks. But aside from an astoundingly severe case of acne he was unharmed.

"He'll be fine," the five-year-old assessed, "He's not even concussed."

As if on cue, the pimpled teen's eyes snapped open and he sat up blinking in confusion as he shook a few more suction cup arrows out of his spiky hair.

"Whoa," he chuckled, focusing on Dean, "You little Winchester Dudes sure know how to roll out the welcome mat, huh?"

"Sorry about that," Dean winced, "We thought you were someone else."

"Oh, no worries, little man," the teen shrugged, rubbing at the lip print on his head, "I got three younger brothers who are always trying to ambush me in some way. I'm used to it… The flying diaper was a new one, though…"

"Ohmigod, Topher!" Tiffany simpered as she and Dean helped the youth to his feet, "I totally thought I was gonna be like a widow at 17, fer reals!"

"Nah, you ain't gonna get rid of me that easy, Sugar Face," he said manfully, "I could use some mouth to mouth resuscitation, though."

Before Dean had a chance to protest, the teenagers locked lips in a grotesque display of tongues, saliva and braces.

"Hello Breakfast my old friend," Dean grimaced.

"That's gonna replace the ceiling fire in my nightmares!" Sam declared.

Dean looked over and gasped to see his brother carefully crawling backwards down the stairs.

"Sammy! Stay right there!" he demanded, "I'll help you the rest of the way down!"

"Nah, I think I got the hang of this," Sam insisted.

Dean rushed forward but before he reached Sam there was a pair of longer legs brushing past him to pluck the toddler up off the treacherous steps.

"Oh oh!" Topher said in an overdramatic tone, "That's a big no-no! Extra-Little Dudes shouldn't crawl down the stairs! Him doesn't wanna fall down go Boom, does him? Oh oh! Look-it all him's spots! Does him have the Chicken Pox?"

"Buddy," Sam glared at the teen, "I scored 174 on my LSAT. I don't need this bullshit. Now put me down, damn it!"

"Oh oh! Him's a fussy one!" Topher cooed, "I think him needs a nap!"

"Why does everyone keep saying that to me?" Sam seethed, squirming in the youth's grasp, "Talk to the man, Dean. We're running out of time!"

"Right, look pal," Dean stated, tugging at the chains dangling from the teen's leather jacket, "Sorry about the beat down earlier. But we were trying to trap this crazy man named Gordon Walker who's heading this way right now to kill us all! We need to get out of here or we're all gonna die!"

"OOOH!" Topher mock shuddered, "He sounds as scary as Michael Myers! My little brothers are all freaked out about him too. I probably never should have let them stay up to watch Halloween on Cinemax. That's why they keep trying to kill me…"

"Topher!" Tiffany snapped, "Are we like gonna totally make out or what?"

The teen's eyes lit up and he immediately dumped Sam into Dean's arms.

"You kids go play outside, now," he said ruffling the Winchesters' hair, "Me and Miss Tiffany have some grown-up business to attend to!"

"But wait…" Dean began.

Topher ignored him strutting back over to embrace Tiffany as their tongues once again began an assault on one another's tonsils. The Winchesters exchanged a look of utter disgust then marched over towards the pair as fast as their little legs would allow.

"Hey! Listen up Sid and Nancy! This is serious!" Dean tried and failed to capture the couple's attention.

"Babe," Topher said finally coming up for air, "In the immortal words of Adam Ant: If I strip for you, will you strip for me?"

"UGH! As if! Lameoid!" Tiffany pushed the boy back, "What'dya bring me from the record store?"

"Oh, right!"

Topher reached into his pockets and pulled out two plastic bags. Settling down on the couch and pulling Tiffany down on his lap like some leather clad Santa, he opened the first bag and extracted several cassette tapes.

"For you, my little Cream Puff, we have Duran Duran, Kajagoogoo, and of course in honor of the movie I know you're dying to see… the soundtrack to Purple Rain!"

"Tubular!" Tiffany cheered, happily shuffling through the tapes.

"And for me, Van Halen's latest 1984, Twisted Sister and brand new, fresh off the press, just came out this morning… Metallica!"

Topher proudly held out the cassette tape featuring an electric chair surrounded by blue lightning streaking down from the band's logo, floating above the bold white letters: RIDE THE LIGHTNING.

Dean's eyes instantly glazed over with longing. Sam rolled his eyes and bopped his brother with the Pooh Bear.

"Dude, focus!" he hissed, "Remember Gordon!"

"Right, right," Dean shook his head, "Look, Topher, my man. First up, great taste in music if not women, Bro! But we've got a serious situation here. We're not kidding about the crazy guy coming to kill us. He's after me and Sam, but he's not the kind of guy who leaves witnesses behind. So you guys are in just as much danger…"

"We should totally play this now!" Topher jumped up happily heading for the stereo set up in the living room.

"UHH! Not even!" Tiffany pushed past the boy, blocking him from the cassette player, "We're totally not listening to your loser Metal freaks. Metallica? Oh Puh-Leaze! They're grody to the max and they don't have any videos even! They'll totally never make it! Now Kajagoogoo! Like, there's a band with staying power! Let's play that, fer reals!"

She popped in the tape and began to dance and sing along with the music.

"You're too shy shy… Hush Hush… eye to eye… Too shy shy… Hush Hush…"

Topher watched her seductive hip shaking and then shrugged and began to dance along. Sam and Dean stared transfixed as the couple moved closer and closer and soon were slobbering over each other yet again.

"Damn it, will you two hormonal douche bags knock it off and pay attention to us!" Dean stomped his foot as he shouted over the music.

"Sorry Little Dude," Topher said sincerely, "You see when you get to be my age you'll have other things on your mind besides toys and make-believe games. You won't have time to play with little boys. You'll want to spend your time playing different games… with girls! Get it?"

"Oh ho! Believe me I get it," Dean snorted, "In fact, I get it more than you ever will! But this is a matter of life and death! Gordon Walker is real and he's coming here now!"

"Ohmigod!" Tiffany tossed her head back in exasperation, "This one's been totally been yammering about bogus Gordon Walker fer like forever! As if! C'mon babe, let's like lock 'em up in the closet fer reals!"

"No, Pudding Cheeks," Topher giggled, "We don't have to do that. They can just go play outside with all their toys! Right kids?"

"No we can't go outside!" Sam insisted, "Not by ourselves! Please you have to believe us. This is like a horror movie in the making… but real!"

"Exactly!" Dean said his eyes lighting up suddenly, "You two are playing with fire here! Don't you get the scenario you're walking right into? Making out. Ignoring the children you're supposed to be watching. Killer on the loose, coming right for the house? You saw Halloween! You've gotta know this ends badly!"

"Yes, yes!" Sam said, following his brother's lead, "'Cause Halloween, that was based on a true story you know… just like the babysitter who kept getting obscene phone calls and it turned out they were coming from right inside the house… or the Hook Man! He stalked after teenagers making out in parked cars! He was real… and Gordon Walker is real too!"

Topher cocked his head, staring down at Sam.

"Wow… it's almost as if you're speaking real words…"

Sam smacked his face into his little palm.

"He said it's all real!" Dean furiously translated, "Halloween, When a Stranger Calls… all those campfire tales you heard about the Hook Man slicing up teenage punks like you in parked cars…They're all based on real life scenarios. Just like this. Bottom line, bad things always happen to horny teenagers! And you are about to become just another statistic unless you listen up and get us all out of here!"

Topher grinned nervously.

"How do you know all this?" he asked, "You're too young to know all these stories…"

"Wrong again, White Wedding," Dean snarked, "We ain't as young as we look. We traveled back here from the future where we're grown men who fight these things every day of our lives. Gordon Walker also came here from the future to try and kill us as kids because he thinks Sam's psychic powers mean he's a demon or something evil."

"You kids are a riot!" Topher laughed, "And they say too much TV kills kids' imaginations!"

"Damn it," Dean shouted, "Do something, Sam. Show this idiot your powers! Move something with your mind!"

"Dean, I can't…" Sam protested.

"Come on, yes you can, Sammy!" Dean squeezed his brother's shoulders encouragingly, "You moved a whole china cabinet with your brain when you thought my life was in jeopardy! Now all our lives are in jeopardy! You can do this, Sam! I know you can!"

Sam nodded doubtfully. Then he put his hands to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating with all his might. His face turned pale and his eyes flew open suddenly as he looked up at Dean, stricken.

"What is it?" Dean asked anxiously, "Did you feel something? Did something move?"

"S…something moved all right…" Sam answered, his face instantly going from pale to bright red, "I…I…uhh… I… just made more ammo for the catapult…"

Now it was Dean's turn to grow pale.

"New emergency!" he said in a panic, "My brother needs his diaper changed!"

"Oh not even!" Tiffany huffed, "Barf-O-Rama, fer shurr! I told you, Romper Room! You're on Pamper Patrol! Now go away, or I totally will lock you in the closet with baby stink pants an' all!"

"My brother needs his diaper changed now woman!" Dean repeated frantically.

"D…Dean… I'm really sorry," Sam said honestly, "But you're gonna have to do it, man…"

"No way!"

"Dude! I'm your brother!"

"Yeah, you're my brother," Dean agreed, "I would die for you… I would sell my soul for you! But this? This is asking way too much! I know what you ate!"

"Deeeeaaaannn…" Sam whined, shuffling his feet.

"Oh, I'll do it!" Topher sighed, "My youngest brother is just barely potty trained. It's not like I've never changed a diaper before."

"Toooopphhhheeerrr…" Tiffany whined.

"It'll be ok, Honey Bunch," Topher said, lifting Sam up onto his hip, "I'll get this taken care of and then I'll take the kids outside…"

"What! No damn it!" Dean said, "We're not going outside!"

Topher ignored him, bouncing Sam in his arms as he carried him up towards the nursery.

"Ride the little horsey up through the town… better watch out or you're gonna fall down…" he sang cheerfully.

"Dean…" Sam called out desperately, "Please don't let Billy Idol change my diaper!"

"Better him than me," Dean muttered, his mind again working for a way out of this mess as he followed up the stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15-

"This is so humiliating," Sam grumbled, glaring daggers at Dean over Topher's leather lapels, "I'm gonna remember this, Bro! Just wait 'til you hit the Depends years and see how helpful I am then!"

"If we live that long," Dean uttered, strolling over to the crib.

He began to idly play with the Busy Box, his eyes skimming over Sam's toys, desperately hoping that something, anything would click in his brain and prove useful to saving everyone's ass.

"Don't worry, Little Guy," Topher said as he set Sam down on the changing table, "I know what I'm doing here. I've changed more diapers than I can count. It just goes with the territory of being a good Big Brother!"

"Oh, like Hell it does!" Dean snapped.

Sam sighed and resigned himself to his embarrassing fate. He closed his eyes and started trying to channel Missouri again. He wasn't really sure if he was doing it right or if his efforts had a chance in Hell of actually working. But he couldn't stand to just be passive in trying to get them out of this mess and he hated feeling so helpless. He missed being able to fight side by side with his brother as an equal... as much as he missed being able to actually go use the bathroom on his own.

"That's it, Little Dude," Topher said, carefully undoing the adhesive flaps on the boy's diaper, "Just relax. See this isn't so bad, is it? And... OH MY GOD! WHO FED THIS KID CHILI!?"

"We were out of Scabetti-O's," Dean shrugged.

"Hey kid," Sam cracked open his eyes, glancing up at the horrified youth, "Don't skimp on the Talcum Powder!"

Topher turned unhappily holding out a tiny bundle towards Dean who promptly put his hands behind his back and nodded to the Oscar the Grouch trash can.

"Way to stock pile the ammo there, Sammy," Dean beamed proudly.

The teen finished up the unpleasant task then lifted Sam off the table quickly handing him over to Dean.

"Hello Lamp Post, whatcha knowin'?" Sam cooed in his brother's arms, blissed out and happy again.

Recovering from the ordeal, Topher kept a look out for Tiffany and then extracted the brand new Metallica tape from his pocket as he reached into the crib for the Fisher Price Cassette Player.

"Maybe I can actually listen to a song or two before Tiffany finds out," he said conspiratorially.

Dean stared unbelieving at the youth towering over him.

"Ok, first off. Zit-Faced, Bleach Brained and Whipped is no way to go through life, Son," Dean said seriously, "And secondly, I will not stand idly by and allow you to play a Classic like Ride the Lightning on some dinky ass Cassette Player for babies! It's an insult to the very core of my being!"

"You're a weird little boy," Topher smirked, "And by the way, "Classic" means something that's old. This tape is new. I haven't even opened it yet. Metallica hasn't been around long enough to make a Classic. This is only their second album. But don't worry. You'll learn the right meaning of words once you start school..."

"I'll take you to school!" Dean muttered, balling his little hand into a fist.

Sam, who had been happily wriggling his tush in the freshly powdered Snuffeupagus diaper, snapped to attention at once.

"Dean! It's a Classic where we come from!" he said, grabbing hold of his brother's fist, "Tell him!"

Dean's eyes widened as understanding dawned on him as well. There was their salvation in a 3x5 plastic case wrapped up in cellophane.

"Dude!" he said, his heart beating with renewed hope, "Metallica may just be a bunch of punk kids not much older than you right now. But where we come from they are the Gods of Heavy Metal and Classic... yes Classic Hard Rock! I own every album they have ever made. Master of Puppets is coming up next... and oh, man just wait 'til you hear the Black Album! What you hold in your hands is a Classic! I've been listening to that album since Dad gave it to me for my 8th birthday! I know all the words by heart and I can sing the whole thing start to finish... Well, except for the instrumental at the end... But that I can hum!"

"It's true he can..." Sam said, trying hard not to roll his eyes.

"Oh, I see," Topher said indulgingly as he casually picked up a hand puppet and a black blanket from Sam's crib, "Master of Puppets, huh? The Black Album, eh? You know. It's fun to make up stories, but telling lies isn't nice. You can't have been listening to this album since you were 8, you're only 5. And this album only just came out today!"

"Fight Fire with Fire!" Dean said quickly, "Then the title track, For Whom the Bell Tolls, Fade to Black, that's the first side. Flip it over and you're got Trapped Under Ice, Escape, Creeping Death and The Call of Ktulu. Want me to list the Production Assistants and Engineers?"

He stood beaming smugly up at the stunned youth who stared at the cassette in his hand reading over the play list that the child in front of him had just recited verbatim.

"You... You just read that right now..." he chuckled nervously, "Right when I took the tape out of my pocket..."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. 'Cause speed reading is a skill all five year olds naturally have," Dean shook his head, "Go on. Test me. Open up the lyrics sheet and pick any song at random."

"O...kay..." Topher tore off the shrink wrap and then unfolded the lyrics sheet inside, holding it out of Dean's reach like he was trying to keep him from cheating off his paper, "How about Fade to Black..."

"Good choice," Dean nodded, "But keep in mind, this sounded much better when I was a Baritone."

He cleared his throat and then sang out in a hauntingly sweet little voice:

"Life it seems to fade away... drifting further every day... Getting lost within myself... nothing matters, no one else... I have lost the will to live... simply nothing more to give... There is nothing more for me... I need the end to set me free..."

Dean was about to start the next verse when he suddenly noticed Sam's eyes drooping shut as the toddler swayed on his feet. He caught his brother under the arms and held him up just as the younger boy slumped against his shoulder and began to slide to the floor.

"Whoops!" Dean cried, "Sorry, no ballads! I forgot my brother's really susceptible to lullabies right now. Pick something else. OOH! How about Creeping Death! Love that one... Although since that's about Biblical Plagues and the Angel of Death coming to kill off the first born sons of Egypt, it's bad Karma for me to sing that... being first born and all. But Sammy here can sing it for you. Sammy, come on. Wake up and sing Creeping Death for the nice man!"

"Wha? Umm.. ok," Sam sighed sleepily, "But keep in mind this sounded better when I had more teeth..."

"Wait a minute!" the lyrics sheet trembled in Topher's hands as he skimmed down the words, "You're right. This song is about Biblical Plagues... and you got all the words to Fade to Black right too..."

He refolded the lyrics sheet and tucked the tape back into his pocket pacing about the nursery as he ran his hands through his spiky hair.

"Sam," Dean murmured, "You are never again allowed to rag on my musical tastes. Metallica just saved our lives, Bro!"

"Behold the power of Mullet Rock!" Sam said, impressed.

"Whoa…" Topher muttered. "I mean, seriously. Whoa! What if everything you've been telling me is true…"

"Looks like we got him hooked," Dean whispered in Sam's ear, "Time to reel him in!"

Sam nodded then employed the most pitiable puppy dog look he could muster.

"It's all true, we swear!" he said, speaking as clearly as he could, "Now will you please help us?"

"Yes!" Topher stood tall, his face full of purpose, "Yes I will!"

"All right!" Dean reached up and high-fived the teen. "Now we're getting somewhere…Ok, first things first. We need to get into your car and…"

"Topher!" Tiffany was at the nursery door suddenly, sucking down another beer and stomping her Jelly clad foot, "Why are you like still hanging out with these lame little bratazoids! You're like totally supposed to be like giving me your undivided attention, fer reals!"

"Sorry, sweetheart," Dean sneered, "Your boyfriend just got his marching orders. He's gonna be the big hero and help us defeat Gordon once and for all! Right, kid?"

"I think they're telling the truth, Muffin Cakes," Topher said, "We've got to do something before Mr. Walker gets here!"

"But Topher..." Tiffany tilted her head to the side, toying with her hair, "Like, today was the day I was going to like actually maybe, let you like possibly get to 2nd Base, an' stuff!"

She licked her lips and batted her heavily mascaraed eye lashes, flashing her lacy bra strap at the teenage boy. Topher's Adam's apple visibly bobbed in his throat.

"Well, kids! Time to go play outside!" he announced suddenly, his voice raised an octave.

"What! No!" Sam cried, "You said believed us! You said you would help us!"

"Topher! Dude!" Dean said, "Think with your upstairs brain! She's just leading you on! Trust me! I know her type!...WHOAA!"

Before the brothers could protest further, the hormonally charged teen hoisted Dean up onto his shoulder while reaching down to scoop Sam into the crook of his arm.

"Let us go, damn it!" Dean pounded his fists against the young man's leather clad back. "This is not helping us defeat Gordon! C'mon, Man! Don't you wanna live to hear the Black Album?"

"Outside! Outside!" Topher roughly jostled the boys as he hurried down the stairs, "Fresh air will do you good!"

"You can't just leave us outside by ourselves!" Sam insisted, wriggling in the youth's grasp, "We'll be sitting ducks! And then Gordon will come after you and your girl!"

"Don't do this, man!" Dean shouted, "You know bad things always happen to horny teenagers! Think of Halloween and the Hook Man!"

"Some things are worth the risk!" Topher said, "You'll understand when you're older!"

"I understand plenty!" Dean grumbled then reached out towards the Fridge as they passed through the kitchen. "Hey! Hold up! Shouldn't we have a snack before we go play?"

Without missing a beat, Topher reached out his free hand and grabbed a pack of raisins and a sippy cup off the kitchen counter.

"You can have these outside!" he said, rushing out the sliding glass doors. "Wow! Just look at this awesome swing set you have! That should keep you occupied for hours!"

"But… wait… my bear!" Sam stalled, "I left it in the house somewhere! We gotta go back and find it!"

"Yes, God help us all if my brother doesn't have his friggin' bear!" Dean tried not to roll his eyes, "Put us down so we can go look for it!"

Topher groaned then spun back into the house, scanning the rooms frantically until his eyes fell on the Winnie the Pooh. Bending down, he caught its ear between his teeth then raced back outside with the Winchesters still in tow.

"Got it! Got the bear!" he spoke around a mouthful of plush yellow fur, "All's right with the world!"

"Oh, for the love of...!" Dean spat, "Plan B, Sam! We're gonna drive out of town if I have to strap boxes to my feet to reach the peddles! Get the moron's car keys!"

Sam obediently tucked his tiny hand into Topher's pocket, sifting through its contents as the oblivious teenager carried the brothers over to their play set.

Dean howled with outrage as he was plopped down onto the sun heated seat of a cheap plastic swing while Sam was dumped into a Johnny Jump Up and left to bounce helplessly beside him.

"Here we are!" Topher said, panting, "Here's your raisins and juice! Here's your bear! Have fun! Gotta run!"

Sam and Dean watched in stunned silence as Topher scampered off into the house, locking the sliding door and drawing the curtains shut behind him.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Romeo!" Dean hollered, "Just wait 'til Gordon comes and smokes both your asses without us around to protect you! Gimme the car keys, Sam! We're hittin' the road!"

"Dean…" Sam sighed fatalistically, bouncing all the while, "He didn't have any car keys…"

Dean turned towards the driveway. His eyes narrowed to slits when he spotted the pimpled punk's chosen mode of transportation… A rust covered Huffy dirt bike.

"Sonofabitch!"


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16-

"Like, took you long enough!" Tiffany huffed once her boyfriend had returned from getting the Winchesters settled into their play set.

"Good thing's are worth waiting for," Topher said, in the huskiest voice he could muster. "Now where were we?"

He sat down on the couch and took his lady love into his arms. Their lips and tongues met in an awkward pantomime of passion as their limbs intertwined ineptly. Topher's hands fumbled their way into the neon green netting of Tiffany's mesh halter top, his heart beating frantically against his purposefully ripped British Flag T-Shirt.

Just as his frenzied fingers were about to unhook her bra, his hormonally addled brain suddenly decided to free associate.

"Unhook…Hook…Hook Man!...Bad things always happen to horny teenagers!" said Topher's brain.

An adolescent squeak erupted from his lips as he sat up and scrambled away from the female form beneath him.

"Like, what's wrong?" Tiffany stared in bewilderment at the boy cowering on the opposite side of the couch.

"Uhh… n…nothing…" Topher swallowed hard, "Ahh…Say! Looks like Old Man Winchester has Cable! Let's watch MTV, huh?"

He quickly grabbed the remote and switched the TV on.

"Hey! Check it out! It's the World Premiere of Purple Rain Party! Doesn't it look cool? Maybe with my pay check and your babysitting money we'll have enough to go see the movie! Isn't this a great video? Come on, Baby! Sing along! This is what it sounds like… when doves cry!"

"Ohmigod! Yer like such a total spazz!" Tiffany pouted as her boyfriend stood up and began an ungainly white boy dance to the music.

Meanwhile outside, Sam had put himself into a meditative state as he tried once more to psychically contact Missouri Moseley.

"Missouri," he mentally called out, "I don't know if you're picking up any of this, but things are pretty grim. Dean and I have been locked out of the house. I'm currently trapped in a Johnny Jump Up that just will not stop bouncing! Madonna and Billy Idol are inside drinking all Dad's beer and befouling the couch so no one is even watching us. Gordon could be here any minute and we're completely exposed out in the open with no neighbors around to hear us scream. We have no way to protect ourselves. No weapons. Not even a pocket knife. I dug through Billy Idol's pockets when he brought us out here but he had nothing on him but a Metallica tape and a tube of Clearasil. I have a Pooh Bear, a sippy cup, and a box of raisins. Maybe MacGyver could work with all that... But I'm not MacGyver. I'm just Sam Winchester and I cannot stop bouncing! Please, help us Missouri Moseley! You're our only hope!"

He squeezed his eyes tight trying to channel all his psychic energy into the message. But all the banging and commotion going on around him made it impossible to concentrate.

Opening his eyes he watched in fascination as Dean skittered about, Playskool toolbox in hand, working feverishly to construct something or other out of the toys he had gathered throughout the yard.

"It's gonna be okay, Sammy!" Dean called out, his voice crackling with nervous energy, "You just sit tight, Bro! I'm gonna drive us out of this mess just like I said I would… This may not look like much now... But when I'm done, it's gonna look just like a '67 Chevy Impala!... I just need more Silly Putty..."

Sam pursed his lips then let his mind shift back into its meditative state.

"P.S... Dean has lost it completely!"

"Sammy... do you see another jump rope around?... Never mind... I'll use this Slinky..."

"What is the Slinky for, exactly?" Sam addressed his brother delicately.

"I need someway to install the tape deck... It's a Fisher Price tape deck, so it'll play London Bridge instead of Back in Black... but we can't have a road trip without tunes, you know..."

"So you've basically souped up a Kermit the Frog Big Wheel..." Sam cringed, "What's with the rickety looking tower of Legos over the handle bars?"

"That's the gun rack."

"We don't have any guns, Dean!"

"We will... I know there's some water pistols around here somewhere. It's not ideal, but if we can hit him in the eyes it might blind him long enough for us to get away…"

"And why did you tie a baby walker to the right back wheel?"

"That's the side car for you."

"I'm not riding in that thing..."

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean chucked a plastic hammer back into the toolbox, "God only knows how many blocks we're gonna have to travel before we find an actual grown person to help us! How far do you think we'll get on foot with you pulling a Maggie Simpson every three steps, huh? And if you think I'm carrying your diapered ass even a fraction of the way, think again!"

"Not even a piggy back ride?" Sam sulked, "Dude, that's harsh!"

"That toxicity you were leaking earlier... that was harsh! Now here, I'm gonna take this bad boy for a test drive. You keep a look out for Gordon!"

Dean handed Sam a small telescope. It was decorated with Capt. Crunch decals and still smelled like the cereal box it had come from, but it actually worked pretty well, considering.

Sam kicked out with his legs until the Johnny Jump Up bounced high enough for him to see over the fence.

Dean climbed into the Big Wheel and began to peddle around the yard. He made it as far as the picnic table before the baby walker slipped loose from its jump rope binding and crashed into a tree while the Lego gun rack worked free from the Silly Putty and collapsed in pieces over his head.

"Sonofa..." Dean grumbled, "Maybe I need to use PlayDoh instead... Coast still clear, Sam?"

"Yes," Sam reported then kicked his legs harder and bounced a little higher, "Wait... no... There's someone on the road up ahead!"

"Holy crap! Is it a car? Is it Gordon?"

Sam squinted through the telescope, struggling to focus on the distant figure. He saw a young African American boy, maybe 8 or 9 years of age, wearing a blue uniform and peddling a small bicycle with training wheels. The faint sound of a bell echoed merrily throughout the neighborhood as the child rode up and down the street several blocks away.

"It's a kid on a bike..." Sam said, bouncing up again to get another look, "He's wearing some kind of Scouting uniform."

"What like a Boy Scout?" Dean asked.

Sam bounced.

"Cub Scout, yes," he said, "Yellow cap and neckerchief...That's a Wolf Cub. A 2nd Year Scout."

"Sammy! That's it! We're saved!" Dean cried out, catching his brother mid-bounce and hugging him tight, "Scouts are honor bound to help out those in need! And if he's a 2nd Year, you know he's just itchin' for those Merit Badges!"

He let out a whoop then climbed up on the fence to flag the Scout down.

"Hey! Hey kid!" he called, waving his arms over his head, "Over here, kid! Help us, please! We need rescuing!"

The Cub Scout responded immediately to Dean's cry, turning his bike in the direction of the shouting and peddling quickly towards the Winchesters.

"He's coming!" Dean cheered, "What'd I tell you, Sam! Everything's gonna be okay!"

Sam tried to share his brother's enthusiasm. But there was an uneasy feeling building in the pit of his stomach that he was pretty sure had nothing to do with the chili. He bounced up with the telescope to take one more look at their would-be rescuer.

The Cub Scout looked like your average, all American boy in every way... Except the bike he was riding was bright pink, with streamers on the handlebars and a Barbie logo on the basket in front. Either the kid was fully embracing the Scouts' 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy or else he had stolen the bike from a girl.

"Why would a Cub Scout steal a bike," Sam frowned, "He should know better! Unless..."

Sheer panic gripped Sam's heart.

"Oh my God! Dean!" he shouted, "Dean, get down off the fence! Stop waving! We gotta go hide! Now!"

"What? Sam, Dude. The Scout'll help us. He's almost here..."

"No, no, Dean!" Sam cried, "I can't believe we didn't realize this before! But if the Time Machine made us age backwards, doesn't it follow that Gordon would..."

He froze, swallowing hard.

The Cub Scout was at the fence now, smiling sweetly at the Winchesters. His cherubic face beamed with the wholesome innocence of a child, but his eyes held that all too familiar glimmer pure insanity. He gripped the bike's Barbie pink handlebars and rang the little bell... With menace!

"Can Sam and Dean come out to play?" said Gordon Walker.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17-

"Wait a minute..." Dean stared at the young boy on the other side of the fence, "Are you... Is this...? You mean this... is Gordon...?"

Sam nodded tightly, pulling the Pooh Bear up against his chest protectively.

"Hello Dean," the boy on the bike said, flashing that familiar leering grin, "Been a while."

Dean stood gaping at the beardless, scar-less child before him.

And then a loud snort erupted from his nostrils and he slipped off the fence, falling backwards into the grass, clutching at his ribs as his entire body quaked with raucous laughter.

"Oh my God!" he cackled, "This is Gordon? This is Gordon! HA HA HA! I can't believe... HA HA HA! We were so freaked out... HA HA HA! All over... HA HA HA! All over a... a... HA HA HA! A CUB SCOUT! BWAH HA HA HA! Oh God! HA HA HA! Run for it, Sam! He might start a fire by rubbing two sticks together! Or sing us a song about Hiking! WA HA HA HA HA!"

Dean tossed his head back overcome with giggles as Gordon looked on unamused. Sam's eyes shifted nervously from his brother's hysterical form to the cold, calculating stare facing them from beneath a blue and yellow Wolf Cub Cap.

"Dean... he's still bigger than us..." Sam warned.

"HA HA HA!" Dean laughed even harder, oblivious to the younger boy's fears, "Look out, Little Brother! He can build a birdhouse out of Popsicle sticks! We don't stand a chance! WA HA HA HA HA HA HA! His mighty scouting skills will be our doom! HA HA HA!"

"Scouting is an honorable after school activity!" Gordon snapped, "Not all of us spent our childhoods picking our noses in the back of some gas guzzling Chevy while our Daddy abandoned us to go monster hunting!"

"Oh... HA HA...You're right, Gordon!" Dean crawled to his knees, gasping for air, "You're right. Not all of us little boys were lucky enough to have parents who would buy them… a BARBIE BIKE! BWAH HA HA HA HA HA!"

Dean fell forward again, rolling in the grass and pounding his fists against the ground.

"A… A GIRL'S BIKE!" he howled, "You had a Girl's Bike! HA HA HA! Oh my God, Gordon! This explains sooo much! HA HA HA HA HA HA!"

"This is not my bike!" Gordon spat, "I woke up this morning back in this body and back in my childhood home with this uniform neatly laid out for me. I had to break open my piggy bank just so I could buy a bus ticket to Kansas! I stole this bike once I got to Lawrence in order to get here from the bus stop!"

"And of all the bikes available for the snatching you choose one with a basket and pink streamers?" Dean panted, wiping tears from his eyes, "Like I said, Gordo… This really explains so much!"

"It's the first bike I found that I could actually ride, ok!" Gordon hissed, "The only one that actually... well, that actually had…you know... training wheels…"

Dean stared blinking at his greatest foe for a long moment. And then his entire being exploded with laughter once again.

"HA HA HA HA! OH! OW OW! STOP!" he squealed with mirth, gripping his aching sides, "I can't take much more! OH WA HA HA HA HA! Training wheels! You still needed training wheels at 8! HA HA HA HA! Oh my God! Sammy! Sammy, Gordon's gonna need one of your diapers! He's probably not potty trained either! BWAH HA HA HA HA!"

Sam flinched as Gordon jumped up kicking the bike aside and charging the fence. He could see something strapped across the young boy's chest that was definitely not part of a regulation Cub Scout uniform. Something that looked suspiciously like the butt of a rifle peeking over his shoulder.

"Dean..." Sam started to speak up, "Oh God, Dean he's got..."

"Poor Gordon!" Dean gasped, "Not potty trained! Can't ride a bike! And still too young to see Purple Rain! BWAH HA HA HA HA!"

"Maybe so," Gordon said, climbing over the fence, "But not too young to fulfill my true mission!"

Before either brother could utter another word, Gordon reached behind his back and pulled his weapon forward, aiming it directly at Sam and firing in one fluid motion. All three boys watched in awe as the big green Nerf bullet flew through the air striking the toddler between the eyes before bouncing harmlessly to the grass below his Johnny Jump Up.

Dean instantly fell back against the picnic table, slapping his hand against its surface as his body was wracked with hiccupping giggles once more.

"BWAH HA HA HA! A NERF GUN? HA HA HA! Gordon! You came all this way and never noticed that all you had was a Nerf Gun! WA HA HA HA! OH GOD! Never mind, Sammy! Save that extra diaper for me! HA HA HA! I'm gonna wet my pants here! HA HA HA HA!"

"Stop laughing, Dean!" Sam sulked, rubbing his head, "That actually hurt a little!"

Gordon stood staring in disbelief at the toy weapon in his hands, his lower lip trembling as if he were about to cry. But then he hefted the gun's weight and suddenly marched towards Dean with renewed determination.

"Dean! Dean watch out!" Sam cried.

"Oh! Oh Gordon! You slay me!" Dean sighed still chuckling, "HA HA HA HA HA!"

"Not a bad idea, kid!" Gordon growled, butting the smaller boy across the head with the hard plastic gun.

Dean's laughter was instantly cut off as his head snapped to the side. He whirled around, directly facing Sam. There was still a faint trace of a smile on his lips... but his green eyes were completely crossed towards one another. His eyes then rolled upwards as the rest of his body headed south.

"NO! DEAN!" Sam screamed as the older boy crumpled to the ground.

He kicked and flailed with his little legs, desperately trying to rush to his brother's aid. But God help him, no matter how hard he kicked, he could do nothing but bounce. His movements stilled altogether as Gordon Walker turned to him, stalking forward like a cat towards a caged mouse. He swallowed hard; his tiny hands holding onto the sippy cup in a death grip as his little arms compulsively squeezed the Pooh Bear.

"SQUEAK!" yelped the Pooh Bear.

"Well, well, well," the Cub Scout sneered, towering over the tiny tot, "If it isn't Little Sammy Winchester. Who knew such great evil could come in such a small package! What's up with those spots all over your face? That some kind of Demonic rash?"

"Would you believe Chicken Pox?" Sam giggled nervously, "You should keep back, Gordon. It's highly contagious."

"Nah, I had that mess when I was four," Gordon said, idly pushing the Johnny Jump Up back and forth, "I'm immune. Lucky me. I can get up close and personal."

He leaned forward, his face inches from Sam's. The toddler's eyes darted about frantically searching for some way to save himself. His frenzied gaze kept falling back on the still form of his brother lying sprawled in the grass. Before he could remember how to squeak out 'Dean! Please wake up!' in Morse code, the Pooh Bear was cruelly snatched from his grasp as Gordon tossed the beloved toy over his shoulder.

"So. Whatcha drinking good there, Sammy," the deranged hunter asked, tapping at the sippy cup, "Demon Blood?"

"It's Sam!" the smaller boy snarled, lifting the tiny cup over his head, "And it's Hawaiian Punch!"

With all his might the toddler brought the sippy cup down, crashing against his assailant's jaw. Gordon's head snapped violently to the side, blood and teeth flying from his mouth as he staggered backwards in shock and pain.

"I did it!" Sam gasped, "I knocked Gordon's teeth out! Uhh… Happy Birthday, Dean!" he called to his still unconscious brother.

"Don't flatter yourself, Satan Spawn," Gordon lisped, sounding suspiciously like Daffy Duck now, "Those were just baby teeth. They were already loose!"

"Oh. Then you should hurry back home and put them under your pillow for the Tooth Fairy," Sam suggested, "It's the 80's after all. Just think what they'll be worth in this Economic Boom!"

"Not worth as much as a future with one less Demon Child," Gordon answered back.

He cut his eyes over towards the kiddie pool that sat filled with water, gleaming in the sunlight near the side of the house.

"Such a hot day," he said serenely, "Why don't we take a dip in the pool?"

He leered at the younger boy with a now gaping bloodied smile and Sam instantly picked up on his murderous intent.

"I... I... wasn't much of a swimmer at this age," he gulped, "H... How about a nice game of Patty-Cake instead?"

Without another word, Gordon grabbed Sam under the arms and brutally hauled him from the Johnny Jump Up.

"NO! GORDON DON'T!" Sam cried out, struggling in the bigger boy's grasp, "DEAN! OH GOD! DEAN! HELP ME PLEASE!"

A soft groan escaped Dean as he began to stir slightly, turning his head in the grass.

"Don't worry... I'll save you..." he muttered drowsily.

"DEAN! DEAN!" Sam screamed as Gordon carried him towards the pool.

"I'll save you... Princess Leia..." Dean murmured, smiling as he rolled to his side nuzzling the lawn.

"Damn it, Dean!" Sam grunted, "I'll wear the gold bikini if you want me to! Just... HELP!"

He kicked and beat his fists ineffectually against Gordon's side.

"Don't do this, Gordon! Please!" he begged, "What will the other Cubs in Den 15 think!"

"They'll sing Camp Fire songs in my honor once I tell them how I rid the world of a terrible monster!" Gordon smirked, struggling to keep his grip on the squirming little boy in his arms, "Now quit your damn wiggling, Demon Brat! I promise to make this as... painful as possible!"

"HELP ME!" Sam hollered towards the house as Gordon drew near the pool, "HELP! TOPHER! TIFFANY! SOMEBODY! HELP ME... MMMMUUUPHHH!"

Gordon clamped his hand down over the screaming child's mouth. Sam grabbed at the older boy's fingers, trying desperately to pry them away. He whimpered helplessly against the large palm struggling to bite at the flesh that silenced him... All the while knowing his attempts would be so much more effective if he had more teeth.

"EEW!" Gordon cringed, "Stop slobbering on me with your Demon Cooties!"

Sam's mind screamed out for Missouri, even as he knew in his heart that was a lost cause. His eyes grew wide with terror as Gordon reached the pool, holding him out over the clear blue water. The plastic pool was decorated with dozens of googly eyed overly cheerful sea creatures all dancing merrily beneath the shimmering water.

Having faced death many times over in his short young life, Sam had always expected the jaws of a ferocious werewolf, the sacrificial blade of a witch's dagger or the pissed off visage of an angry spirit to be the last thing he ever saw. Happy Crabs, Winking Dolphins and an Octopus juggling Starfish were well beyond the scope of his imagination.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18-

The party was hopping on Jabba the Hutt's Sand Barge.

Space Age Synthesized Jazz blasted through the air amidst a crowd of Intergalactic creatures great and small. Droids serving drinks and green skinned dancing girls gyrated seductively before his eyes. But his attention was fixed on one figure and one figure alone: The dark haired, bikini clad beauty held captive at the giant Space Slug's throne... Princess Leia.

"Help me, Dean Winchester!" she pleaded with her large brown puppy eyes, "You're my only hope!"

"Don't worry, I'll save you," Dean said, swaggering towards the throne, "I'll save you, Princess Leia!"

"Oh ho! You call yourself a Jedi, Winchester?" Jabba the Hutt spoke out in Huttese as subtitles conveniently appeared superimposed over his girth, "You are nothing but Bantha Fodder! The Princess stays with me! Get your own girl!"

"Oh, Dean! Save me too," the dancing girl sashayed his way, turning into Apollonia Kotero as she did so, "I'll do anything! Take me with you! We can jump topless in the lake together!"

She threw her arms around Dean's neck as the band began playing Purple Rain in the background.

"Well, that sounds like a plan..." Dean said, nuzzling against her ear.

"Don't forget about me!" a droid serving drinks rolled towards him morphing into a Hooters waitress with a tray full of hot wings, "Save me too! I want to give you your birthday spankings, you naughty naughty little boy!"

"I can handle that too," Dean grinned.

Ignoring Apollonia's frown he wrapped his other arm around the Hooters Girl allowing her to feed him a hot wing.

"EWW!" he spat the morsel out suddenly tasting grass and dirt.

"What's the big idea!" Apollonia snapped, shoving him hard against the ground, "You're supposed to be saving me!"

"No! Me!" the Hooters Girl huffed, kicking him in the side, "You're saving me now!"

"I saw him first, Bitches!" Princess Leia roared, hopping off Jabba's throne and swinging her chain right at Dean's head, "He's saving me!"

"OWW!" Dean cried out as the chain whacked him right across the forehead, "What the..."

"Me! Save me now!" Princess Leia knocked the other girls away as she pulled Dean up and handed him a long rope.

Dean's head was throbbing with pain, but he obligingly wrapped his arm around Leia's slender waist and held her tight as they swung Tarzan style away from Jabba's Barge.

"Oh Dean!" Princess Leia cooed, as they continued to swing dizzily around and around, "You saved me!"

"Is...Is it just me," Dean grimaced, his stomach beginning to churn, "Or is this making you seasick too?"

"Kiss me you ridiculously handsome Jedi Knight you!" the Princess demanded.

Dean squeezed the beautiful woman in his arms lowering his mouth to hers.

"SQUEAK!" cried Princess Leia as her fuzzy yellow lips pressed against Dean's.

"Buh?" Dean startled, blinking in confusion at the happy bear's face grinning up at him.

A pair of legs in a long brown cloak strolled over and he glanced up to see Obi-Wan standing above him, his wise old face blocking out the bright sun.

"Forget it, Dean, it'll never work," Obi-Wan spoke in Bobby Singer's gruff voice, "For one thing, she's your sister! For another, you're actually kissing a Pooh Bear! And thirdly… Will you wake up already and save your brother, ya idjit!"

"Crap!"

Dean snapped awake suddenly to find himself lying face down in the backyard of his childhood home, his head pounding with a dull ache and his lips locked onto Sam's Pooh Bear.

"GAH!" he groaned, spitting out yellow fur, "Friggin' bear!"

He rolled over woozily, barely managing to sit up as the world tilted sideways beneath him. Clinging to the grass to keep himself from sliding off the face of the Earth he glanced up to see Gordon Walker carrying the struggling and terrified Sam towards the kiddie pool. Ok, so there were two Gordons, two Sams and two pools, but Dean got the general idea.

"S...Sammy!" he croaked out crawling forward unsteadily.

Making his way to rescue his brother would be so much easier he decided if the world would just be kind enough to stop spinning for one freakin' minute. The world, it seemed, was not in a very kind sort of mood at the moment. The world instead was in a rather viciously ironic state of mind as his hand missed the ground mid-crawl and landed instead on a nearby Sit 'N' Spin. The Sit 'N' Spin did what Sit 'N' Spins do best and spun out from under him sending him sprawling face first to taste the grass and dirt once more.

"This couldn't have worked out better if I'd planned it," Gordon chuckled leering down at his captive, "Little Demons your age should never be left unattended around a pool like this. Accidents will happen, you know. And this will look just like an accident. Heh heh. They'll probably even blame Big Brother Dean for not looking after you like he should. Maybe I'll actually let him live to face the consequences, whatd'ya think of that, Sammy?"

"IFFS... S'MMM...!" Sam grunted furiously against Gordon's hand.

"Oh, whatever..." Gordon rolled his eyes, "Guess I can grant you one final request. 'Cause now Sam Winchester sleeps with the fishes... and this little Octopus Guy too."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight as Gordon lowered him head first towards the shimmering water. His heart was racing, blood pounding in his ears as a strangely familiar sensation enveloped his entire being. At first, he thought he was about to make yet more ammo for the catapult. But then a powerful serge coursed through him and he felt a push of pure energy as the kiddie pool flew up into the air, flipped over completely and emptied its contents over Gordon's head. The Cub Scout stood gasping and sputtering drenched to the bone and staring at the child in his grasp who remarkably remained dry.

"My God," he uttered fearfully, "You really are a Demon!"

"And you really are a Son of a Bitch!" Dean growled, racing forward to bring the Sit 'N' Spin crashing down against Gordon's back and shoulders.

The Cub Scout arched in pain dropping the toddler at once before collapsing to the ground himself. Sam pushed himself into a sitting position and looked over to see Dean swaying on his feet as the Sit 'N' Spin slipped from his hands.

"DEAN!" Sam cried out as his brother staggered backwards and then landed on his butt in the damp grass.

He tried to crawl forward to Dean's aid. But now Gordon was sitting up, shaking his head and focusing his attention on the older Winchester once more.

"Just don't know when to stay down, do ya Deano?" Gordon spat, getting to his feet and cracking his knuckles as he marched towards the still dazed boy.

Sam looked about frantically, his eyes at last landing on the Playskool toolbox. Grasping the plastic hammer in his tiny fist he charged forward and slammed the tool right smack into Gordon's crotch.

"HOOOOOOOO!" Gordon howled, his eyes crossing in agony.

Dean blinked, struggling to clear his vision as he was sure he was missing something very important. His arm fell into the kiddie pool and he scooped up the last little handful of water left inside, splashing it against his face. His eyes focused in time to see his baby brother furiously pounding the Playskool hammer over and over again into the Walker Family Jewels.

"Yowza," he muttered, shaking off the last of his wooziness.

Gordon, who had been struggling in vain to protect his valuables from the toddler's assault, finally managed to catch hold of the hammer and rip it from Sam's grasp sending the smaller boy falling forward. He bent down to grab hold of the little child but before he could do any harm, Dean was flying forward leaping onto Gordon's back.

"Leave him alone you bastard!" he raged wrapping his arms around Gordon's neck as the larger boy tried to buck him off.

Sam managed to push himself up off the ground and out of the path of Gordon's stomping feet. He caught hold of the Cub Scout's leg and tried to bite the back of his calf. Quickly realizing that this was a fruitless effort and he was doing little more than drool down his enemy's leg, he grabbed up the hammer again and went for the boy's groin once more.

Dean for his part had managed to wrap his legs around Gordon's waist and now caught hold of the yellow neckerchief, pulling the cloth tight around the Cub Scout's throat.

"How you like me now, Bitch!" he yelled in Gordon's ear, "Not so tough without your Nerf Gun are ya!"

Meanwhile inside the Winchester Home, Tiffany furiously wrenched the cap off another bottle of beer and downed half the contents as she stared in disbelief at her so called boyfriend. The teenage boy was skipping in front of the TV dancing along with the Medieval costumed idiots on the screen as they all formed a giant 'S' with their arms.

"We can dance, we can dance... Everybody look at your hands... We can dance, we can dance... Everybody takin' the cha-a-a-ance... It's the Safety dance! Safety Dance!...Is it safe to dance... Is it safe to dance... Ooh yeah! Safety Dance!"

"Tooooophhhheeeerrr!" Tiffany whined, "Are you like ever gonna like turn off that bogus TV and come sit with me? I can't believe yer like totally blowing this completely bitchin' opportunity to like make out an' stuff fer reals!"

"Oh... ahh... I will Honey Muffin," Topher stammered, "I... I... uhh... I just think maybe we oughta check on the kids first. You know make sure they aren't getting too hot in the sun... or... uhh... kid... kidnapped by some gun toting killer who's then going to come after us... You... uhh... you... wanna come along with me, huh?"

"Oh whatevers!" Tiffany huffed, hopping up off the couch and taking Topher's hand as they made their way into the kitchen.

Topher swallowed hard as they approached the back door. He didn't want to think of anything horrible happening to the children. But his mind was filled with images of Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees and the Hook Man coming after them all for being young, horny and stupid. The kids had been so sincere about this Gordon Walker character coming to get them. What if he were to open that curtain to find the pair of little boys hacked to pieces on the lawn and a madman fogging up the glass with his breath as he stared at his next victims. Hands trembling, the teen reached out and carefully pulled the curtain aside to see...

"Holy Crap!"

Right before his very eyes, the Winchester children were beating the stuffing out of a defenseless Cub Scout! The five-year-old was straddling the Scout's shoulders, strangling the boy with his own neckerchief, while the baby brutally hammered the poor child in a very sensitive area. Topher's own sensitive area ached in sympathy as he flung open the door and raced outside to put an end to the madness.

"STOP! STOP IT!" he shouted, grabbing a Winchester in each arm and pulling them away from their victim, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU KIDS!"

"IT'S GORDON!" Dean screamed, reaching out to try and grab hold of the neckerchief again, "HE'S TRYING TO KILL US!"

"Whoa, wait... This is Gordon?" Topher asked, holding the Winchesters back even as Sam managed to get a few more crotch whacks in before the teen took his hammer away, "This... ? Is Gordon...?"

The youth stood blinking down at the small boy standing before him in a soaking wet Scout uniform. And then a loud snort erupted from his nostrils and he bent over laughing, slapping his hand against his knee.

"HA HA HA!" he chortled, "This is Gordon! Gordon Walker! Oh HA HA HA! You crazy kids had me so worked up! HA HA HA! A CUB SCOUT! Gordon Walker... is a CUB SCOUT! BWAH HA HA HA HA!"

"Why does everyone keep laughing about me?" Gordon grumbled, adjusting his neckerchief and fixing his cap.

"'Cause you're a joke you sorry son of a bitch!" Dean snapped, charging forward again.

"Uh uh!" Topher scolded holding the child back, "No more of that! Wow, Old Man Winchester is going to have to wash your mouth out with soap when he gets home!"

"That's nothing compared to what he'll do to you when he finds out you were feeling up the babysitter while Gordon Walker tried to drown Sammy!"

Topher looked over at Gordon shocked.

"Mister, I did no such thing!" Gordon said with childlike innocence, "I came over to play and the Winchesters dunked me in the pool! Just look at me! I'm the only one who's wet!"

"Oh, you evil bastard..." Dean growled as Gordon smiled smugly.

"Now what's going on with you kids?" Topher asked, "Why can't you two play nice with your little friend here?"

"He's not our friend!" Dean hissed, "He's the killer from the future we told you about! He did try to drown Sam! And he beat me over the head with a gun!"

Dean lifted up his bangs and showed the teenager the huge lump forming just over his eyebrow.

"That was self-defense," Gordon protested, "They attacked me first and I just don't understand why. All I wanted to do was sell them some cookies!"

And then both Winchesters gasped in horror and outrage as Gordon tilted his head, stuck out his lower lip and batted his eyelashes to flash the saddest puppy dog look ever.

"Oh, no you didn't!" Dean roared.

"Damn you, Gordon!" Sam spat, "That's my signature look! It took me years to perfect that look! How dare you!"

He snatched the hammer back from the teen and launched himself in a flurry of pure toddler rage towards Gordon's groin, only to be halted when Topher grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hoisted him into the air.

"That is enough!" the youth insisted, "Now I don't know how Mr. Winchester has been raising you, but while I'm here you're going to behave and act right!"

"Just leave them with me, Sir," Gordon beamed sincerely, "I can teach them some manners… Scout's Honor!"

"Don't you leave us alone with him!" Dean insisted.

Topher shook his head and headed towards the house where Tiffany stood by the window guzzling down the last drop of beer.

"Sweetie Pie," Topher said, "I'll be right back. You watch the kids and make sure they don't start anything."

"Ohmigod!" Tiffany choked, spitting out the beer as she caught sight of Gordon, "Like how many kids does Old Man Winchester have, fer reals!"

"GORDON IS NOT A WINCHESTER!" Dean bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"Copy my puppy dog look... Why I oughta..." Sam grumbled as Gordon and the brothers glared daggers at one another.

Topher returned quickly, his arms loaded with an assortment of board games and toys which he spread out on the picnic table. He then lifted Sam up onto his hip while herding Dean and Gordon towards the pile of playtime goodness.

"See here!" he said, cheerfully, "There are so many activities you can enjoy besides fighting! Look, you two have all sorts of nice quiet games for your age level... And then for the little guy we've got this great bucket and shovel that he can build sandcastles with! Won't that be fun?"

"Oh, Dude..." Sam griped as the teenager plunked him down into the sandbox, "There's cat shit in here!"

Topher ignored him, hurrying back to get the older boys settled onto their picnic benches.

"All righty, kids!" he said, patting their heads, "Tiffany and I will be right on the back porch watching you. So play nice or else Gordon will have to go home!"

"We want Gordon to go home!" Dean seethed, "In fact, we want Gordon to go to Hell!"

"Now, now, Dean," Gordon said coolly, "We can be civil as long as we're being watched..."

He cut his eyes over to the two teenagers on the porch. Tiffany sat glumly drumming her fingers against her cheek until Topher produced a beer from his pocket. Soon the couple were giggling and exchanging kisses as they passed the bottle back and forth.

"Doesn't seem like we're being watched all that closely though, does it?"

"Wrong, Gordo!" Dean spat back, "I'm watching you! You try any more funny stuff and I'll be on you before you can give the Wolf Cub Howl for Help!"

"Easy there, tiger," Gordon mocked, "We both know any action we take is just gonna get broken up by Sid Vicious over there. So for the time being, let's just chill and deal with this unfortunate situation like mature, rational adults... Wanna play Candy Land?"

"I was always partial to Hungry Hungry Hippos myself," Dean said, keeping his eyes locked on his nemesis.

"Hungry Hungry Hippos it is then," the older boy stated, reaching for the box, "Hmm... Says here this game may pose a choking hazard to children under 3... How about we let little Sammy join in the fun?"

"How about you bite me!" Sam sassed, shoveling some of the more solid bits of sand in Gordon's direction.

Dean leapt up suddenly and pushed all but one game off of the picnic table.

"Gordon! You leave my brother out of this!" he growled, nostrils flaring, "This is just between you and me now! We're gonna settle this once and for all, man to man... with Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots!"


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19-

The air was beginning to cool slightly as the hot July afternoon reluctantly took its leave and it was evening's turn to preside over the spectacle of human contention. Butterflies and bumble bees flitted about in a frenzy of fascination and several curious fire flies ventured out early into the sunlight, drawn by the sheer volume of excitement in the atmosphere. Cicadas screamed in a high pitched cacophony, wildly cheering on the tireless fighters as the battle for dominance entered its 100th round...

At least it could have been the 100th round. Sam had long since lost count. His brother and his enemy had been rockin' and sockin' those damn robots for hours upon hours while he kept an anxious vigil in an uncomfortable diaper that was becoming increasingly heavy with sand.

If nothing else, the competition had served to keep Gordon distracted from his Sam-Killing mission. The crazed hunter was so engrossed in maneuvering his blue plastic boxer to beat its fists against Dean's red robot that he seemed to have forgotten altogether that Sam even existed. The only problem was Dean seemed to have forgotten that as well.

"YES!" the older Winchester shouted raising his arms as Gordon's blue robot yet again had its block knocked off, "I am the greatest! I am a bad man! And I'm pretty!"

"Let's make it 2 out of 3!" Gordon grumbled, slapping his robot's head back into place.

"We passed that possibility 50 times over, pal," Dean snorted, "But no matter. Since you obliviously love having your ass handed over to you so much, I'm more than happy to oblige. Believe me, I'm just as fond of kicking your ass!"

He set back into position and soon the boys were furiously pounding their thumbs against the controls again.

Sam rolled his eyes at the pair and then glanced skyward. He could tell by the position of the sun that it was close to 6pm. The neighborhood was once more becoming alive as numerous cars returned their owners home from work or after school activities. The toddler had been doing his best to catch the attention of these commuters. Using the tiny plastic shovel Topher had given him he had scrawled "HELP!" in giant letters in the sandbox. He had also gathered enough wooden alphabet blocks to spell out "S-O-S" which he held up over his head whenever a car would pass by, thrusting out his lower lip and flashing the puppy eyes all the while. But so far no one had paid any attention to the adorable little fellow or his desperate situation.

"Freakin' yuppies!" Sam groused as yet another Don Johnson wanna-be sped past him in a Ferrari.

Hoping against hope, he kept a look out for Missouri. He didn't know which house was hers or even if she was scheduled to return anytime soon. But if she did, surely she would want to check in on the Winchester boys knowing that their father was off hunting werewolves all night. Surely her psychic senses would zero in on the dangerous presence of a killer Cub Scout in the yard... if only she were back in town.

Meanwhile, Tiffany had drained the last of her beer and tossed the empty bottle into the yard in a huff.

"This is like the lamest day ever!" she whined, "We like have this perfectly tubular set up, fer shurr! No grown-ups to hassle us. Free beer an' free cable. The most awesome opportunity to totally make out an' stuff... and all you wanna do is watch these lame little Rug Rats play with some bogus robots? As if! Not even Boy George could say "no" to this bitchin' bod of mine! I mean, fer reals, Topher! Is there something yer not telling me? Did I like grab for a box of Wheaties and totally get Fruit Loops instead?"

"Oh... n...no, Butter Cakes!" Topher insisted, "It's just... well... you know... bad things always happen to horny teenagers..."

"UHH! Says who?" Tiffany scoffed, "Captain Kindergarten over there? Oh Puh-Leaze! Brat Boy Winchester's been totally lying his little Garanimal pants off since I set foot in the door, fer reals! Now come on! Let's go play like we're Luke and Laura and the living room's totally General Hospital! I'll even let you like listen to yer grody Heavy Metal, fer shurr!"

"Ok, Sugar Muffin!" Topher hopped up happily.

He searched through his pockets but came up empty handed.

"Hey! Where's my Metallica?" he wondered.

"Oh, who cares?" Tiffany said dragging him into the house, "Just like play your Twisted Sister an' stuff. They're slightly more tolerable anyways, I'm shurr!"

"No wait... Come back!" Sam gasped out seeing the teens abandon their post.

His eyes darted nervously over to Gordon. So far the older boy hadn't noticed they were no longer being watched, but Sam began to scan the yard for potential weapons all the same. His trusty hammer lay all the way on the other side of the yard. If only Dean could keep their nemesis occupied, Sam might just be able to broach the distance and reach it. Stepping carefully out of the sandbox he began to toddle his way across the lawn. Five steps was about all his little legs could handle before the thick grass tripped him up, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Damn it!" he hissed, then looked up to spy the baby walker laying discarded and forgotten by a tree. Stealing another quick glance back at the other boys he began to crawl slowly towards his own personal transportation.

"Oh ho ho, YES!" Dean crowed as the blue robot's head went spinning upwards once again, "Tell me, Gordon. Is being this much of a loser something you've worked at? Or does it just come naturally to you?"

"You're cheating!" Gordon announced suddenly leaping to his feet and kicking the picnic bench away.

"How exactly, does one cheat at Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots?" Dean asked with sincere puzzlement.

"This blue guy's head must be looser!" Gordon insisted, "Or else you've glued the red guy's head on so it won't pop up!"

The Cub Scout grabbed at the red robot's head pulling it up with such force that it snapped off all together. Dean's eyes instantly filled with tears upon witnessing the destruction of such an awesome toy.

"I'M TELLING!" he wailed.

He looked over towards the teenagers... who were no longer there! Twisted Sister's We're Not Gonna Take It began blasting from the house letting Dean know that his caretakers no longer cared and he was in fact on his own.

The revelation dawned on Gordon in the same instant, but before the Cub Scout could act on this new development Dean punched him dead in the face. The older boy reeled back, blood spilling impressively from his lip, and yet somehow not as satisfying as it would have been if his head had popped straight off his shoulders like that blue robot's had so many times before. Gordon recovered much too quickly and leapt up on the picnic table to kick Dean across the jaw.

"Dean!" Sam cried out seeing his brother stagger backwards from the blow.

The youngest boy had only just managed to set the baby walker back on its wheels and was leaning against it for support when the melee broke out. Realizing the hammer was too far out of reach, he seized up the wooden blocks and hurled them in Gordon's direction. One block caught the Cub Scout right above the eye, knocking off his cap and leaving the imprint of an "S" on his forehead. Sam wondered briefly if he could get in enough hits to spell out his name but before he managed to get his little hands on an "A" block, Gordon was charging forward like an enraged bull towards a disarmed matador.

Dean rushed up from behind slamming an entire Monopoly set over Gordon's head. The box broke open at once spilling its contents down upon the furious hunter who quickly shook off the piles of Play Money and brushed Park Place and Boardwalk off his shoulders before bending down to grab up a board game of his own. Poor Dean caught Operation right smack in the face and wondered briefly if his own nose would glow red from the assault. Shaking off the hit, he dodged a second blow reaching down to snatch up the spinner from his game of Twister and hurling it like a discus across Gordon's chin.

"Right foot Red, Bitch!" Dean quipped as the bigger boy collapsed to his knees in pain.

He marched triumphantly towards his enemy ready to beat the living snot out of him. But before could take the first swing he inadvertently stepped in the middle of the spilled Hungry Hungry Hippos game. As the marbles slipped out from under his foot he fell forward straight into Gordon's clutches.

"OOF!" he cried out, "Friggin' Hippos!"

Gordon wasted no time in slamming Dean face down in the grass and pinning him there with a knee to the younger boy's back as he reached for a nearby jump rope.

Sam growled out in a fury, launching his little body towards Gordon with the sand shovel clutched in his tiny fist. The shovel didn't pack the same punch as the hammer unfortunately and the older boy merely knocked the flimsy weapon from his grasp before roughly shoving the toddler off his feet.

"Sammy!" Dean struggled beneath Gordon's weight, watching as his little brother's limbs flailed helplessly in the air like a turtle on its back.

By the time Sam managed to right himself, Gordon had effectively hog tied Dean with the jump rope and now stepped forward to snatch the defenseless 14-month-old up off the ground.

"AHH! NO! HELP!" Sam yelped as Gordon tossed him onto his shoulder.

"Let him go you Son of a Bitch!" Dean roared, straining against the rope.

"That's my mother you're talking about!" Gordon kicked Dean in the ribs.

"Stop it!" Sam screamed doing his best to kick back at Gordon, "Don't you hurt him, Gordon! Don't you dare!"

Gordon ignored him, idly drumming his fingers against the squirming child's back as he contemplated his next move. As the Winchesters continued struggling in vain to free themselves a sleek black Firebird Trans Am came speeding down the street.

"Help us, Knight Rider!" Sam called out in sheer desperation.

"Heh heh, Knight Rider," Gordon chuckled watching the car zoom past the yard without slowing down for an instant, "That's cute... And it gives me an idea..."

He carried Sam over to the baby walker and plopped him down inside quickly strapping the harness over the little boy and securing him tight.

"How about we go play in traffic?" he sneered grinning into Sam's terrified face.

"No! No! I don't like that idea at all!" Sam grunted, desperately trying to dig his little toes into the ground as Gordon began to wheel the baby walker over towards the gate where the busy street lay just beyond, "Stop! Don't do this! Help! HELP! DEAN!"

"SAMMY! Damn it all to Hell!" Dean cursed, writhing in his bonds, "Topher! TOPHER! For God's sake, man! Get your pimpled ass back out here now!"

The screams and protests of the Winchesters went unheard as Twister Sister continued to blare out from the stereo. Knowing there was no one to stop him, Gordon calmly opened the gate and pushed the baby walker out onto the sidewalk.

"Help us, Marty McFly!" Sam screamed out frantically as a DeLorean zipped on past.

"Go on. Keep those crazy dreams alive, Demon Boy," Gordon said mockingly.

A low triumphant chuckle escaped Gordon's throat as he rolled the baby walker back and forth across the smooth cement, eagerly awaiting the next car to come speeding down the road.

"Look both ways before you cross the street, Sammy," he teased, "And who knows? Maybe the next car to come this way'll be the Bat Mobile. Or the General Lee with those Good Ol' Duke Boys coming to your rescue..."

He knelt down beside his helpless victim casually brushing the unruly curls back from the child's forehead as Sam flinched and twisted away from his touch.

"Maybe it'll even be that beat up old Chevy Impala I just know you're praying for right now." Gordon hissed in the boy's ear.

"Daddy..." Sam bit back a sob, refusing to give Gordon the satisfaction of seeing him break down, even as his whole body trembled with abject terror.

The purr of a rapidly approaching motor roared in the distance and both boys looked up to see the vehicle in question racing up the road, tires squealing as it turned onto their street.

"You have got to be freakin' kidding me!" Sam gasped out.

"Oh no!" Gordon cackled, "This is just too poetic! This completely makes up for missing out on Purple Rain!"

The car barreling towards them was in fact… a Little Red Corvette.

Sam knew better than to call out for help from the Purple One himself as His Royal Badness Prince was busy attending the World Premiere of his own movie. The driver of this car was just some random douche bag who didn't appear to be slowing down for or even noticing the two small children playing just on the side of the street.

"This is it, Demon!" Gordon cheered, "Say 'Goodbye', Sammy!"

Sam didn't bother saying goodbye as Gordon prepared to shove the baby walker directly in the path of the speeding car. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and channeled a simple message to the douche bag behind the wheel:

"Baby, you're much too fast!"


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20-

"See you in Kiddie-Hell, Sammy!" Gordon shouted over the roar of the approaching motor.

Sam's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as Gordon pushed the baby walker off the curb and held it there waiting for just the right moment to send him rolling out into middle of the street. The Corvette was close enough now for Sam to catch sight of the driver- a pudgy middle aged man with frosted honey-blonde hair teased up to the roof of his car.

"Oh great," the panicked thought nearly overwhelmed Sam's senses, "Death by Bon Jovi wanna-be..."

Just as the toddler was wondering if it was possible to die from sheer indignation before the impact, a three and a half foot tall Garanimal clad wave of pure unfettered big brother rage came crashing over the fence and down on top of Gordon.

"Bastard!" Dean growled as he tackled the bigger boy to the concrete and yanked Sam back onto the curb and out of harm's way.

The Little Red Corvette zipped on down the road posing no more threat beyond the driver's terrible fashion sense. Sam clasped his little hands up to his mouth to stifle a squeal of utter delight as Dean straddled the stunned hunter pummeling him with his five year old fists of fury. He knew his brother would never let him hear the end of it if the words 'My Hero!' actually spilled from his lips.

"You!" Gordon gasped between punches, "How the Hell did you get loose?"

"Let's just say you won't be earning your Knot Tying Badge anytime soon, you weak ass Scout!" Dean seethed glaring down into the face of his enemy.

He drew back his fist ready to pound the older boy senseless, but Gordon let out a howl of pure hatred and grabbed Dean by the shoulders, head-butting him against his already bruised brow.

"Sonofabitch..." Dean panted seeing stars.

"Shit!" the toddler cursed as Gordon began to peel himself up off the sidewalk and stalk towards Dean once more.

Sam struggled to free himself from the harness. But the childproof latch proved too much for his tiny fingers to manage, leaving him a captive spectator as the older boys got to their feet and began circling each other. Although Gordon had several inches and at least 15 pounds on Dean, the younger opponent was not to be underestimated. Still, Sam could tell that his brother was weary and hurting. The fight could easily go either way and it was frustrating him to no end not to be able to help out. He wasn't used to sitting on the sidelines like a damsel in distress and he definitely wasn't used to being so small and defenseless that the others mostly ignored him. And yet, being practically invisible had its advantages he decided. As the oldest boy's attention was turned fully on Dean, the toddler quickly revved up his little feet Fred Flintstone style and charged forward.

"YABBA DABBA DOO, Asswipe!" he cried out, ramming the baby walker straight into the back of the Gordon's knees.

"OWW! Damn demonic imp!"

The Cub Scout grunted in pain, his legs buckling suddenly beneath him and Dean seized the opportunity to wrestle him to the ground once more.

"Yabba Dabba Doo?" Dean cocked an eyebrow at his brother while holding the struggling Gordon down.

"I watched cartoons too, you know." Sam shrugged.

"Well, nice work, Bam-Bam," Dean snorted as he pinned their enemy's arms behind his back, "And won't Daddy be proud when he gets home from hunting that werewolf? Looks like we caught us a little Wolf Cub ourselves."

The Cub Scout writhed and hissed as Dean whipped the neckerchief from his shoulders and began to use the cloth to bind his wrists together.

All at once there was a screech of tires and a stylish purple Mustang convertible came speeding around the corner. A sinister smirk crossed Gordon's lips and before Dean could finish tying his hands he rolled out from under the smaller boy and back towards Sam.

"Your Daddy's gonna come home to demon baby Roadkill!" he shouted kicking the baby walker off the curb and into the street.

"SAMMY! NO!" Dean cried out in horror unable to reach his brother in time.

"DEAN!" Sam screamed as he helplessly spun straight into the path of the oncoming car.

Sam couldn't decide if it was just an odd quirk of Time Travel or a cruel joke played by a capricious Universe. But as the Mustang came heading his way and his life began to flash before his eyes, he only got the first 14 months instead of the full 23 years. Not that it was all bad. There were plenty of sweet long forgotten images of Mom, tender moments with Dad, and highly entertaining games of Patty-Cake and Peek-A-Boo with Dean to highlight a blur of sleeping, eating, pooping, bouncing, cuddling with Pooh and waiting for that awesome talcum powder to hit his tush. Still, for a Stanford educated monster slayer to have his greatest achievement reduced to taking his first steps, the whole "This Was Your Life" flashback felt like the ultimate gyp.

He threw his arms across his face and waited for the collision… which never came. The driver of the Mustang calmly pulled over to the side of the road and rolled to a casual stop as if she had fully expected a baby walker carrying a small child to come flying out in front of her. Sam continued rolling from the momentum to the other side of the street where he hit the curb and zigzagged back and forth like a pinball before finally coming to rest with his wheels wedged in a drainage pipe at the end of the street. There he found himself stuck tight, but thankfully out of the path of any more traffic.

All three boys watched as a full figured African American woman in her mid-30's stepped out of the Mustang and crossed the street. She was sporting a Tina Turner lion's mane hairdo, Rubik's Cube earrings, hot pink stirrup pants, high-top sneakers, a Be-Dazzled Jeans Jacket and a 'Where's the Beef?' t-shirt. And yet she rocked this style as if she were strutting down a cat walk in Milan. After a quick glance towards Sam to see that he was safe and unharmed, she turned her attention to the older boys, pushing her sleeves up as she marched towards them.

Gordon sat up quickly, shoving Dean aside and staring up at the strange woman with a puppy-eyed look that would put Sam to shame.

"Lady!" he gasped out in an angelic voice full of innocence while pointing an accusing finger at Dean, "This mean little boy pushed his own brother into the street! I tried to stop him, but he knocked me down and was gonna tie me up and…"

"Shut that lying mouth of yours, Gordon Walker!" the woman shouted, grabbing the boy's wrist and nearly yanking his arm out of its socket as she jerked him to his feet.

"How… how do you know my name…?" Gordon asked stunned.

"I know things," the woman spat back, "And I can see straight into that evil little mixed up mind of yours, so don't you dare be trying to pull any more wool over these gorgeous eyes of mine!"

"Missouri!" both Winchesters said at once recognizing the 80's version of their psychic friend.

"What, so you're like some kind of Palm Reader or something?" Gordon trembled in the woman's grasp feeling a premonition of his own coming on.

"Good guess, Honey," Missouri growled out, her eyes flaring beneath a mound of glitter eye shadow, "'Cause my palm's about to do some reading on that little hiney of yours!"

Without another word she set to raining blow upon blow against Gordon Walker's rear end. The hunter yowled and wailed under the assault, his outraged curses soon dwindling to unintelligible whimpers and then hiccupping sobs. Dean watched in awe, almost feeling sympathy for his nemesis. As Gordon's cries grew more and more hysterical, the older Winchester wondered briefly if it was because his macho defense mechanisms were absent from his eight year old body. But then he decided that Missouri was beating him hard enough to make any grown man cry regardless of his true age. Not that Gordon's punishment wasn't richly deserved...but in witnessing the whole ordeal, Dean began to rethink his birthday wish of spankings at Hooters. His thoughts on the matter were soon interrupted by a small cry from further down the street.

"Uhh... little help here?" Sam grunted hanging halfway out of the baby walker's harness.

"Oh God, Sammy!" Dean gasped as the memory of how close he'd come to losing his brother came flooding back in a rush.

He hurried over and quickly freed the smaller boy from his bonds before gathering him up into his arms and holding him tight.

"Oh my God, Sam!" he said shakily, "I thought you were a goner for sure!"

"Same here," Sam exhaled, trembling as he wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and buried his face against his shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" Dean asked patting his brother all over even as he felt Sam shake his head 'no', "Are you sure? Really? You're sure you're ok?"

"Well..." Sam admitted, "I'm not exactly dry at the moment..."

"Huh?" Dean frowned in confusion.

And then his eyes grew wide with understanding and he dropped Sam to the ground like a hot potato.

"Oh, Dude!" he cried, "That's so wrong!"

"Dean Winchester!" Missouri was coming up behind him suddenly, popping her hand against the back of his head, "Dropping that baby! I oughta drop you! Now go get Sammy's spare diaper bag out of my car... and don't you cuss at me, boy!"

Dean rubbed at the back of his head sulking as he looked up at the woman. A quick glance at her face and then to the spot where Gordon lay curled in a sniveling ball told him not to say, or even think another defiant word.

He hurried across the street to the Mustang. Sure enough, there was a diaper bag waiting for him in the back seated snuggly between a baby's car seat and a booster chair meant for an older child. A long forgotten memory arose in Dean's mind at once. He remembered this car and the crazy haired woman who cared for him and Sam in times when their father was gone. Gathering up the diaper bag he noticed a torn page from a Transformers Coloring Book sitting in the booster chair. Optimus Prime was decorated in a haphazard series of crayon scribbles. Beneath the picture, written in a careful uncertain hand, were the words: "Dean Rools!" followed by the afterthought: "Samy too."

"Damn straight, kid," Dean whispered to the ghost of his younger self.

He shook himself out of his revelry and made his way back to see that Missouri had tied Gordon up against the open gate herself using his own neckerchief and belt and was now lifting Sam up off the sidewalk and resting him against her amble bosom.

"Oh my goodness, Sweetie," she chuckled, as she carried him back into the yard, "If only it were this easy to pick up a 20-something man when I go out club-hopping. My night life would be so much more entertaining!"

Sam's eyes snapped wide open as he exchanged a look with Dean over the woman's shoulder.

"So... you know that we're not really kids?" Sam furrowed his brows as Missouri set him down on the picnic table and took the diaper bag from Dean, "Then this is gonna be really awkward and..."

Ignoring his protests, the woman reached into the bag and pulled out a large bottle of talcum powder.

"Never mind!" Sam beamed clapping his hands with glee before he could stop himself.

"So you know what happened, right?" Dean asked as the psychic set to changing Sam's diaper, "That we're all actually from the future? 'Cause it would be all kinds of awesome not to have to explain this whole situation again."

"I have to admit, the signals Sam was sending me were very confusing at first," Missouri answered, "But I can read your minds well enough to know that the thoughts going around in those little heads of yours most definitely belong to three grown men. Otherwise, Dean Winchester, you'd find your little hiney getting the same introduction to my palm that fool Gordon Walker just got. I'd turn you over my knee on principle alone if my spankin' hand wasn't so sore... Honestly... Hooters Girls! You best thank your lucky stars I don't have a spoon handy."

Dean swallowed hard, instinctively covering his buttocks with his hands as he backed away slightly. His mood brightened as Missouri finished up with Sam and handed a very familiar small bundle out to him. This time he took it gladly... then immediately tossed it over his shoulder in the direction of the gate.

"Oh what the...!" came the outraged cry from their captive enemy.

Sam and Dean exchanged a pair of mischievious grins knowing that the diaper had landed right on Gordon's head.

"Way to stock pile the ammo, Sammy." Dean winked as Missouri helped the toddler sit back up.

"You boys are something else," the psychic shook her head at the Winchesters.

"So are you," Sam sighed, his tush now feeling as much relief as the rest of him, "Thank God you finally heard me calling to you."

"I heard you right from the beginning, Sam," Missouri informed him. "But I was clear across the state at a Psychic Convention. I left the instant I sensed my babies were in danger. Hoo, you boys have no idea how many speeding tickets I had to flirt my way out of along the way. But believe me, I got here as fast as I could. And not a minute too soon…"

She sat down at the picnic bench pulling Sam into her lap and drawing Dean beside her, squeezing them both tight as she surveyed the overturned kiddie pool and the evidence of all the violence that had taken place in the yard.

"Lady? You can see into the future?" Gordon sassed as he struggled against his bonds, "Then you know that precious baby of yours is gonna turn evil!"

"Don't you try to tell me what I know!" the psychic snapped, "I know there are dark forces surrounding both these boys and always will be. But I also know everyone on this green Earth has a choice in how they shape their destiny. You best watch yourself and the choices you make Gordon Walker! Trying to drown a baby? Shoving him into the street? Stealing a little girl's bike? That's a mighty slippery slope for a former Cub Scout! Now keep your damn mouth shut before you get my palm itching to do more reading on your rear!"

"Ya know. My palms are itchin' to do a little bitch slappin' themselves now that you mention it," Dean sneered, cracking his knuckles as he marched over towards Gordon.

"Missouri," Sam asked quietly, "Do you really think I have a choice when it comes to my destiny?"

Before the woman could answer there was a thunderous boom and a flash of lightning streaking from the sky. All heads turned to see an ominous blue glow forming directly in the center of the yard.

Missouri shook her head with a derisive snort.

"500 Psychics gathered at a Holiday Inn Conference Center and not a one of us saw this coming!"


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21-

The ominous blue beam of light which streamed down from the sky before expanding and then swirling into a luminous whirring vortex would have looked and sounded extraordinarily spectacular to the Winchesters and Gordon had they not already seen such a sight before. To Missouri, it was all like a bad flashback to her misspent youth hitting all the Disco Bars in the mid-West or a scene from that terrible movie Xanadu that her ex-boyfriend had taken her to see a couple years back.

"If Olivia Newton-John comes dancing out of that thing in those damn leg warmers telling me to 'Get Physical' I will knock her skinny white ass to the ground," the psychic muttered, instinctively pulling Sam and Dean behind her to protect them.

"It's the Time Portal!" Dean informed her, "That's the thing that brought us here and now it's come to take us back!"

"Or to blow us all into a billion trillion pieces," Sam shuddered, hiding his face against Missouri's leg.

"Oh, come on, Sam!" Dean rolled his eyes, "We made it through last time in one piece didn't we?"

"Yeah sure. Last time things worked out so well for us in case you hadn't noticed!" Sam sassed back, "Forgive me, if I'm not super thrilled to see this thing again. If we just stay put, maybe after a few minutes it'll go away!"

Dean stared at his brother incredulously.

"Dude, what is up with you? This is what we've been waiting for! This is our ticket out of here! After everything we've been through today, how can you consider staying here for even a millisecond?"

"But Dean, now that Gordon's no longer a threat, maybe we should stay here!" Sam insisted, "I mean think about it. We know what the future holds. We can warn Dad about the Yellow Eyed Demon… maybe even take the Bastard out this time! We know where the Colt is, after all and we know his moves! We can stop him and then we can relive our lives and actually have a normal childhood once and for all!"

"The fact that we're even having this conversation already means we can't have a normal childhood!" Dean scoffed, "What normal toddler discuses these things with a five-year-old? Besides, I want my Baby back. No training wheels for me! And I'm not waiting another good ten years before I can reasonably score with chicks! I mean Missouri was right. I was one goofy looking kid!"

"When did I ever say that?" Missouri gasped.

"In the year 2005…" Dean stated plainly, "But it's ok, I grew up to be a damn fine specimen of man. And if you don't mind Sam, I'd like to go back now and get into that gorgeous future body of mine and put it to good use! Come on, you can't tell me you don't want to go back to being taller than everybody again! It can't be fun for you to be this defenseless little pipsqueak... and it's definitely not fun for me to think that I might actually have to be the one to change your diaper someday if we stick around much longer!"

"It's not fun knowing there's a Demon with some secret plan for me either," Sam huffed, "If we have a chance to change the future and reshape our destiny we should take it!"

"Why are you doing this to me, Sam?" Dean threw up his hands in frustration, "I can't deal with this crazy attitude you're pulling! It can't be the terrible twos… you're just barely over one! We can't stay here! We don't belong here!"

"Your brother's right, Sam" Missouri knelt down beside the toddler taking his little hands in hers, "Take it from someone who knows a thing or two about seeing into the future. There are some things you just can't change… only how you react to them. Little Sammy and Dean have their own lives to live- you can't relive it for them. Whatever this destiny of yours is, you're just gonna have to face it head on and trust that when the time comes, you'll make the right choices. That's the way you shape your destiny. Not by changing the past, but by using the knowledge you've gained to work towards a better future."

Sam looked at her doubtfully as Dean knelt down beside him as well.

"And besides…they have talcum powder in the future too you know," Dean said in a whisper, smirking when he saw his brother's eyes light up, "But I know one thing we can change. What do you say we leave Lil' Gordo here to suffer through adolescence all over again, huh?"

He turned back in Gordon's direction to gloat and saw that the Cub Scout had wriggled free from his bonds and was now rushing towards the Time Portal.

"What the…"

"You said we all have a choice in shaping our destiny?" Gordon called out to Missouri over the whirring din of the Portal, "Well, I've made my choice! I'm gonna keep on hunting down every evil Demon Child I find! Sam Winchester must die! Catch you on the flip side, Dead Brat Toddling!"

And with that he disappeared into the light.

"Sonofbitch…" Dean hissed, grabbing for Sam's arm, "Come on, let's go in after him!"

"Wait, Dean!" Sam cried, still clinging to Missouri, "We don't really know what going through this thing again will do to us! What if this time we wind up in adult bodies but with the minds of children?"

"Gee, that's what every woman I've ever dated has accused me of anyway." Dean shrugged.

"Dean!"

"Missouri?"

"I can't see that far into the future, boys," she shook her head, "But my sense is that this is the path you need to take. It's your only way out of here wherever it may lead you."

"We'll call when we get back and let you know how it all turned out," Dean said, "Though I guess you won't actually hear from us until 2007."

"I'll be waiting patiently then," Missouri said, "And don't you worry. I'll take care of everything back here. Now go! Hurry before you miss your chance!"

She gave them each a quick bubble gum flavored lip gloss kiss goodbye and then stepped back to see them off.

"Right! Crank those little legs to 88, Sam!" Dean shouted, "We're heading Back to the Future!"

The boys locked hands and took a running start towards the vortex. But at the last second, Sam broke away and made a toddling dash back into the yard.

"Sammy!" Dean cried out, chasing after him.

"Forgot something!" Sam called back as he grabbed hold of the Pooh bear.

Missouri's mind was instantly assaulted with a stream of barely intelligible profanities as Dean scooped Sam into his arms then took a flying leap into the rapidly shrinking vortex. She was able to make out: "pain in the ass little brother" and "friggin' bear!" just before the vortex exploded in a burst of blinding light that knocked her clean off her feet.

Moments later Missouri was carefully checking her hair and nails as she slowly picked herself up off the ground.

"Oh, if I've snapped my girdle…" she grumbled, making her way through the thick blue smoke left by the Time Portal.

A light breeze began to dissipate the fog and it was then that she spied the young Winchesters lying sprawled in the grass before her.

"Boys!" she gasped, rushing over to them.

Had they not made it through the Portal in time?

The children began to stir just as Missouri reached them. Dean was the first to roll over and sit up. He shook his head and looked all around in confusion before focusing his attention on the woman kneeling beside him.

"Miss Uri?" he blinked innocently, "What are you doing here?"

Missouri sighed with relief, knowing at once that everything, in her time at least, was back to normal.

"I just stopped by to check up on my favorite little boys," she hugged Dean, grateful to no longer be reading his adult thoughts, "Are you ok, sweetie?"

"Yes…" Dean stated then lifted his fingers to gingerly probe at the big lump Gordon had left on his head, "No… Miss Uri! I have a boo-boo!"

"It'll be ok, Dean," the psychic soothed, "We'll put some ice on your boo-boo in just a minute. How about you, Sammy? You doing all right there, honey?"

Sam had pushed himself into a sitting position and was staring down in bewilderment at his empty hands.

"Bear?" he gazed up at Missouri completely baffled.

"Well, now isn't that a thing…," Missouri mused, scanning through the fading mist and finding no sign of the beloved stuffed animal, "Baby, I'm not sure what's become of your bear."

"Bear!" the toddler called, sounding desperate.

Hearing the anxiety in his brother's voice sent Dean into a panic as well. He quickly took inventory of their multiple injuries and the rampant destruction of playthings strewn about the yard.

"Miss Uri, what happened?" he whimpered, "I have all these boo-boos! And Sammy has boo-boos! And my toys are all busted! And Sammy's Pooh Bear's been tooked!"

"BEAR!" Sam cried out in utter despair.

Missouri held her breath as she shifted her gaze from one miserable child to the next certain she would soon have a pair of wailing Winchesters on her hands.

Suddenly, something in Sam's mood shifted.

"Cookie?" he said, looking up at the psychic with imploring eyes.

Dean's entire being lit up at the mere mention of food. Missouri couldn't help but chuckle as she studied the eager little faces before her.

"Yes, I think we all deserve a cookie after the day we've had," she nodded. "How would you like it if I went into your father's kitchen whipped up a fresh batch right now?"

"YAY!" Sam and Dean cheered, jumping up and down as Missouri took them each by the hand and led them towards the house.

Upon entering the kitchen, her senses were instantly attuned to the unsavory activities going on in the living room of the Winchester Home.

"And how would you like to watch me put the whoopin' on a couple of no good, lazy, irresponsible, sexed-up, pea brained teenagers?"

"YAY!" the brothers cheered even louder as Missouri rolled up her sleeves and went straight for the biggest spoon in the house.

It was on that day that a new Urban Legend was born.

From that moment forward, whenever impressionable youths in Lawrence, Kansas gathered around camp fires or at slumber parties to talk of the Hook Man or Bloody Mary someone would inevitably bring up the most chilling tale of all: The Crazy Spoon Lady.

Anyone who didn't believe need only visit the residence of one Old Man Topher Johnston and the timid lifelong bachelor would swear it was all true…

Bad things really did happen to horny teenagers!


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Jan. 24, 2007

Professor Frink stood in his Secret Laboratory, stop watch in hand, as he kept an anxious vigil over the luminous blue vortex that currently occupied the middle of the room.

According to his calculations, the Time Portal would be closing within 30 seconds and so far only that unpleasant Gordon fellow had completed the journey back to the present day. The Portal was already beginning to flare out and diminish when suddenly the scientist spotted two miniscule figures far off in the distance becoming more recognizable as they reached the center of the vortex.

A mop haired little boy was rushing forward, cradling a tiny tot against his chest as they made their way through the ever shrinking tunnel of light. As they drew closer, the two children began to age rapidly before the Professor's very eyes, their small bodies shifting through pre-adolescent growth spurts and hitting puberty somewhere around the 10 second mark.

"Gentlemen, time is of the essence, by glayven!" Frink called out when the boys were both re-experiencing their mopey teen years, "Only 5 seconds to go!"

And then at the last possible moment, the adult Winchester brothers burst into the laboratory, Dean carrying Sam over the threshold just as the vortex imploded behind them and vanished completely.

"SUCCESS!" the Professor cheered, waving his fists and dancing a little jig in front of his stupefied guests.

The young men remained transfixed to the spot, panting and gazing wildly about their new surroundings until Dean let out a groan of sheer agony and collapsed beneath the considerable weight of his now fully grown sibling.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam shouted excitedly, rolling off the smaller man and scrambling to his feet, "We're back! We made it! We're all right!"

"UGH! Tell that to my hernia, Sasquatch!" Dean grunted as Sam helped him up off the floor.

"But, Dean! We're back to normal! We're grown ups! Our clothes don't have cartoon characters on them! I'm... I'm not drooling! I can walk without having to hold your hand! I'm no longer at eye level with your butt in those ugly Garanimal pants! I'm actually looking down at the top of your head again... Damn, but you're short!"

"I knew you'd come around once you got your height back!" Dean beamed up at his brother, "And as long as I no longer have the prospect of having to change your diapers looming over me, I think I can live with your freakishly oversized stature!"

The brothers whooped with triumphant laughter and leapt into a heartfelt embrace, holding each other tight and slapping one another on the back. Dean reached lower and lightly patted the backside of Sam's jeans just to reassure himself there wasn't a pair of Pampers hidden under there, then sighed with relief and leaned into the hug once more.

"Great Glayven! That was astounding!" the Professor cried, interrupting the moment, "You traveled precisely 22 years, 5 months and 28 days into the past and made it back to the present completely unharmed..."

He studied Sam's face curiously.

"...Although you, sir, seem to have contracted Chicken Pox along the way."

"Dean!" Sam huffed, rubbing furiously at the magic marker smudges somehow still dotting his skin.

"Wait just a second, Poindexter!" Dean accosted the scientist, "This nice little journey you just sent us on? You never mentioned that we were gonna age backwards along the way! You turned us into helpless little kids! No one would listen to us or take us seriously. We couldn't drive… Sam could barely walk! We were stuck in the past with no weapons, no contacts, completely vulnerable and at the mercy of anyone bigger than us… including Gordon! How, exactly, does that count as 'unharmed'?"

"Hmm... backwards aging?" the Professor muttered, flipping through his notes, "That possibility never even entered my calculations… Oh, wait, I see… Forgot to carry the one!"

"I'll carry your one!" Dean grumbled making a fist.

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Sam held his brother back, "Speaking of Gordon, what happened to him?"

"He came through the vortex exactly 5.8 minutes ahead of you two then skedaddled out the door without a word. Rude… very rude man! I, of course, alerted the authorities at once to his general whereabouts and they should be here any minute!"

"Never mind that," Dean said, "Which way did he go?"

"Out the back," Frink informed him, "He brought me here yesterday in my vehicle, but I have since ascertained that he left that parked out front. Ergo, one would surmise that Mr. Walker is putting his name sake to good use and is in fact walking…ha, glayven! He is also doing so in a much less threatening manner as his weaponry seems to have been lost in the ether of the Time Portal as it were."

"Yeah, our weapons just vanished into thin air as well," Sam mused, "I wonder why our old clothes came back but not our guns…"

"Eh, who cares?" Dean said, "We've got spare guns in the Impala's trunk and Gordon's got zilch that's all that matters. He'll be easier to take down than a… Cub Scout on a Barbie Bike!"

Dean doubled over thoroughly cracking himself up but he stopped when he saw Sam glaring at him with full on bitchface.

"Yikes, I forgot how unpleasant that look is when you're not a one-year-old…" Dean shuddered before turning back to Frink, "Hey, you best destroy that machine, Professor. If it fell into the wrong hands…"

"Hoyven Glayven, yes! I concur completely my dear boy and in fact, I'm well ahead of you!" Frink insisted, "I've programmed the machine to self destruct after I complete one final mission for the betterment of all humankind!"

And with that, the scientist whipped off his lab coat to reveal a rhinestone studded John Travolta style disco suit.

"I am going back to the year 1977 where my astounding dance moves will be admired and appreciated by the world once more!"

He triumphantly raised his fist skyward and then performed a bizarre series of awkward gyrations as the Winchesters looked on with mounting horror. He paused momentarily upon seeing their stricken faces.

"What? What is it…? Well, why else would one go to all the trouble of inventing a Time Machine, by glayven?"

"Well… uhh… good… good luck with that then, Professor…" Sam said with utmost sincerity before murmuring to Dean, "Can we get out of here now?"

"Yes, oh God, yes," Dean said through his teeth, grinning and waving to the Professor as he and Sam slowly backed away.

The brothers then turned at once, nearly knocking each other down as they made a mad dash for the Plexiglas door, both choosing not to look back as they heard the Time Machine whirring to life one final time.

"Come on," Dean called out as they hurried towards the backdoor, "If Gordon's on foot, he couldn't have gotten that much of a head start. We can catch up to him before the cops get here!"

"Dean," Sam said, slowing his pace, "You know, maybe we should just chill and let the police do their job. Gordon's unarmed. It won't be that hard for them to take him back in…"

"Uh uh. No way, Dude," Dean shook his head, "No more kid gloves when it comes to Gordon. He repeatedly tried to kill you. He beat me and tied me up... And he broke my Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots! He's going down, Sam! You hear me? Down!"

"Oookay, Dean…" Sam exhaled.

"Damn straight," Dean nodded, "We take Gordon out once and for all and then we celebrate at Hooters just like we planned!"

He took a step forward but then stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, wait. Hold up," he said, "Quick equipment check!"

Sam cocked his head in confusion and then turned away in embarrassment as his brother unbuttoned his jeans and peeked inside.

"We good?" Sam asked, rolling his eyes.

"Oh yeah!" Dean exclaimed with relief and pride, "We're better than good! Let's roll!"

Sam watched Dean race out the door before taking a quick peek down the front of his own jeans when he was sure the older man wasn't looking.

"Yep, better than good," Sam sighed with a smile then followed his brother outside.

The winter air was chilled and smelled of coming snow. Only a few scattered stars were visible in the night sky. Dark clouds drifted overhead hovering around the fat crescent moon that shone down upon the sleek black roof of one very lonely Chevy Impala.

"BABY!" Dean cried out running at full speed towards the car.

He spread his arms out wide and threw himself over the hood of his beloved Impala raining kisses down upon her shiny black surface.

"Oh Baby!" he cooed, "You're mine all mine again! And I can actually reach your pedals! Oh, sweet beautiful Girl! Let us never part again!"

"Get a garage you two!" Sam snorted, "Seriously, Dean. Are you gonna be dry humping the car for a while? 'Cause I could always go wait in the bushes and… you know, vomit…"

"No, no, no," Dean said tossing Sam the keys, "Get the guns out of the trunk… I'll just be one more moment here."

He lay back down, happily resting his cheek against the hood as Sam shook his head and started back towards the trunk. The younger Winchester had taken all of three steps when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"Dean… Why is the trunk already open?" Sam asked his voice full of dread.

"Huh?" Dean's eyes snapped open at once.

He lifted his head just in time to see Gordon, fully grown and once again dressed in his orange jumpsuit, stepping out of the bushes. The man held a small caliber pistol in each hand and he was pointing them directly at Sam.

"Hope you don't mind," Gordon said casually, flashing that all too familiar leer, "I popped the trunk and helped myself to a couple of the smaller ones. Traveling light this time."

"Gordon, you son of a…" Dean began to stand up straight.

"Ah ah ah!" Gordon warned, aiming one gun in his direction, "Stay right where you are. I wouldn't dream of interrupting your hot date with that inanimate object. Now, there's a couple ways this can play out, Deano. You can hop on into the trunk while Demon Boy comes quietly with me… Or I can kill you both outright here and now. The choice is yours."

The brothers exchanged an anxious glance but before either of them could utter a word, the sound of wailing sirens broke through the night. All eyes turned to see several sets of flashing blue lights speeding down the road in their direction.

"Well, Gordo," Dean propped himself up on his elbows turning a beatific grin towards Gordon, "Looks like its gonna be door number three. We go on about our lives and you get your sorry ass hauled back to prison!"

Gordon's mouth twitched and his eyes darted frantically back and forth from the Winchesters to the squadron of police cars heading his way. An eerie sense of calm crossed over his features as he made a split second decision.

"Not going back without earning my demon killing badge first," Gordon announced.

And then he fired a single shot.

Dean watched in horror as the bullet struck his brother in the chest. The younger man was thrown backwards disappearing from Dean's view behind the Impala as his body dropped to the ground at once. The police cars were nearly at the scene now, their blue lights and high beams illuminating the dark gloom. But their siren sound was drowned out by the heart wrenching scream that tore through the night:

"SAAAAAAAMMMMMYYYYY!"


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23-

The Demon dead at last, Gordon Walker let out a triumphant whoop before turning to flee towards the woods. He had enough of a head start on the police that he could have easily taken the time to put a bullet in that fool Dean as well. But the look of anguish on the man's face as he rushed towards the body of that Hell Spawn he called a brother was satisfaction enough.

Giddy over his victory, the conquering hero began to laugh long and loud.

He was still laughing as a cop car unexpectantly pulled out in front of him, cutting off his escape path. Still laughing as the officers swarmed down upon him with guns drawn, forcing him to lay face down on the ground and quickly disarming him. Still laughing as he felt the cool steel cuffs encircle his wrists as his arms were forcibly restrained behind his back. Still laughing as he heard his Miranda Rights read to him and then his body was being patted down and searched for more weapons. Laughing even still as he felt one of the officers pull something from the collar of his orange jumpsuit.

"Mr. Walker," the officer said, looking down at him with a mixture of bewilderment and disgust as he held the object in question out before him, "You are going to have a LOT of explaining to do down at the station!"

Gordon glanced up and saw that the officer was holding out a yellow Cub Scout's neckerchief.

He stopped laughing.

Dean wasn't aware of Gordon taking off or of the drama that unfolded as the psychopath was captured. He only knew that his brother was lying pale and motionless against the cold ground… and that he wasn't breathing!

"SAMMY!"

Falling to his knees Dean took Sam's still, slack face in his hands and brushed the kid's hair back, desperately searching for some sign of life.

"Sammy! Oh, Sammy, no, no please! Don't do this to me, Bro!" he begged when his brother showed no response, "Come on, talk to me…Say something, damn it! Please little brother, just give me a sign here! Come on, Sam, I mean it! No way in Hell did we fight so hard for it to end like this... Sammy?"

His vision blurred with tears which he angrily blinked away as he forced his eyes to trail down to Sam's chest to survey the damage. He felt his own breath catch in his throat when he saw the tendril of smoke pouring out of the younger man's jacket where the fabric had been penetrated in the exact location of his heart.

"Oh, God no… No…Sammy, no!"

Instinctively he placed a trembling hand over the bullet hole.

"TALK TO ME, SAM!" he wailed putting pressure against the wound.

"SQUEAK!" came the muffled reply.

"What the…" Dean jerked back startled.

He quickly unzipped the jacket and whipped the garment open to reveal a smoldering Winnie the Pooh tucked close to his brother's heart. The Pooh Bear which had once been nearly the same size as its young owner looked so small now against the grown man's broad chest. Gaping with awe, Dean grabbed the bear up just as Sam's eyes flew open and he drew in a gasping breath.

"Sammy!" Dean cried out as the younger man rolled to his side and began to cough violently.

Quickly pulling his brother into a sitting position, Dean pounded his hand against the man's back until he could catch his breath again.

"Dean…what…" Sam panted, rubbing at his chest and staring dazedly at the older man.

"You're ok, kid! You're ok!" Dean said, unclear if he was reassuring his brother or himself, "You… you just got the wind knocked out of you, I think… Hold up, I'm gonna check you over…Just hold still…"

He pulled Sam's shirt up and ran a shaking hand over his chest where the bullet had struck. There was no blood, no wound… only a reddish, oddly rectangular bruise forming over his sternum. An image arose in Dean's mind suddenly of his diaper clad one year old brother standing before him in an oversized Tonka construction hat and a Batman Belt holding the Pooh Bear up against his tiny torso.

"Body armor!" a laugh that sounded close to hysterical escaped Dean's lips even as tears spilled from his eyes, "You're not hit! Not even a scratch, Bro! The bullet never touched you! All thanks to this… this… Friggin' Awesome Bear!"

He clutched his brother's plush savior to his chest, unabashedly kissing its fuzzy yellow lips and squeaking its belly with joy. Sam gazed at the spectacle Dean was making, his eyes narrowing on the Pooh Bear. He snatched the toy away suddenly glaring at the smoldering hole in its blackened yellow fur and the startling amount of stuffing that spilled from its tubby little gut.

"Can you believe it?" Dean was practically giggling as Sam continued to examine the bear, "It really did have enough fluff in its tummy to stop a bullet!"

Sam ignored him, his mouth twitching downward as he cradled the wounded toy in his large hands, probing the bullet hole with trembling fingers. His eyes welled with tears of fury and then he was shoving the bear back at Dean and scrambling to his feet. In a full on rage he charged towards the circle of police cars where Gordon lay handcuffed and helpless.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU, GORDON!" he roared, straining towards the stunned hunter as Dean caught him and held him back, "I'M GONNA RIP YOUR HEAD OFF WITH MY BARE HANDS! YOU'RE GOING DOWN YOU HEAR ME! DOWN!"

"Easy there, Tiger," Dean couldn't help but chuckle even as Sam struggled and fought against him, "Maybe we should just chill and let the police do their job, huh?"

Dean gave a friendly nod to the police officer who shined a flashlight in their direction noticing for the first time that there were two other men in the vicinity.

Gordon stared back at the Winchesters with fearful eyes, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. His head shook back and forth as his quivering lips mumbled "No! It can't be!" over and over again. The attending officers hoisted him off the ground wrangled him into the back of a squad car ignoring his ramblings as they shut him safely inside.

"I'm gonna kill him, Dean! I swear!" Sam grumbled, "Next time I see him, he's a dead man!"

"I believe you," Dean said serenely, keeping his arms locked around his brother even though the younger man had stopped struggling, "But for now… let's go to Hooters!"

He handed the Pooh Bear back to Sam then reached up to ruffle the taller man's hair before wrapping an arm around his back and guiding him into the passenger side of the car.

After squad car with Gordon drove off, a few remaining officers turned their attention towards the Winchesters, ambling down the hill on foot.

"The police are gonna wanna question us, Dean," Sam said, staring glumly down at the burnt fluff protruding from the bear's tummy.

"Yeah, they are," Dean stated, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the Impala's engine.

And with that he drove off.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24-

When he was certain that he had put enough distance between them and the cops, Dean eased up on the gas pedal and relaxed back into the seat. A long deep sigh escaped his lips… which quickly turned into a chuckle… and then a guffaw… then an outright cackle. The man was soon laughing so hard and hysterically that if the traffic had been heavier, he would have had to pull the Impala over to the side of the road.

"You okay over there?" Sam asked, absently.

"Dude…" Dean gasped in between his chuckles, "I mean… Dude! HA HA HA… This has just been the craziest 24 hours ever! I can't believe everything we went through. I feel like I've been holding my breath forever… all those close calls we had. But now that it's all over…BWAH HA HA HA! What a trip! I wish I had a picture of Gordon and that pink bike… or you in that Johnny Jump Up! Bouncy Bouncy Bouncy! HA HA HA! Oh Bro, you were so adorable!"

"Shut up," Sam huffed.

The younger Winchester reached forward and began rummaging through the glove compartment.

"Aww, come on. You know you were." Dean reached over and pinched at his brother's cheek, "So cute and itty bitty. Downright pocket sized you were…"

"Will you cut it out and watch the road!" Sam snapped, swatting Dean's hand away.

"Oh no, Dude. Uh uh! You are not giving me this attitude!" Dean insisted, "You no longer have diaper rash as an excuse. Besides it's my birthday… I think… I mean, we did come back to the next day, right? Yeah… 24 hours have passed so it's my birthday! And you will give me no bitch boy Emo attitude on my birthday! In fact, right now, you should be showering me with gifts both rare and unusual and extremely expensive!"

"I know…" Sam sighed, "Hey, don't look over here for a while, ok?"

Dean peeked over anyway and saw that Sam had taken out a small flashlight and was shining it intently on the Pooh Bear as he dug through the plush toy's fur with his long fingers. The older man swallowed hard as he watched his brother retrieve the spent slug from the bear's belly before tossing it aside with an air of revulsion. A wave of nausea mixed with guilt coursed through him. He thought of telling Sam he was just kidding about needing an extra special present for his birthday… that he'd already received the best gift he could imagine that night…

But his intense loathing of mushy chick flick moments kept the words lodged in his throat.

Sam glanced up and saw Dean's stricken expression.

"I said 'Don't look!'" he admonished, shifting in his seat so that the Pooh Bear was hidden by his broad back, "Just keep your eyes on the road."

Dean obeyed, shaking his head.

"Dude, please tell me you aren't still sulking over that friggin' Bear!" he scoffed, "I'm sure with some cotton balls, dental floss or maybe some duct tape we can patch it right up… Or do you want to give it a Hunter's funeral, huh? It deserves one after saving your life..."

Dean heard Sam let out a huge sigh of relief. He glanced back again to see his brother's mood had gone completely 180. The kid was smiling now, his dimples out in full force.

"Pull over, Dean." he said mischievously.

Doing as he was told, Dean then shifted in his seat studying Sam with utter confusion.

"So, are you saying that you wanna give the bear a Hunter's funeral?" he asked incredulously, "'Cause I was only joking. Honestly, I think we oughta hang onto it like a good luck charm. Or take it to Bobby's and have him mass market it as body armor for hunters… We'd make a mint! I still can't believe that little guy had enough fluff to stop a bullet!"

"Well, actually." Sam grinned, "Pooh had a little help from this…"

He placed an object in Dean's hand.

"Happy Birthday, Bro!"

"No! Freakin'! Way!" Dean gasped in astonishment.

The older Winchester stared in disbelief at what he held... A brand new, fresh off the press copy of Ride the Lightning… on Cassette!

"The case got damaged," Sam explained as Dean ran a finger over the spider web crack in the plastic, "But thank God, the tape itself is ok. I checked. It should play just fine."

"You… how…when…?" Dean sputtered.

"I stole it out of Topher's pocket when I was checking for his car keys and then hid it in the back of Pooh Bear's shirt. I figured if we actually survived the day you'd appreciate it more than he would… Besides, it was tops on your birthday wish list and you were unconscious when I knocked Gordon's teeth out, so hopefully this makes up for that…"

"Oh, Hells yes this makes up for everything! This makes the whole insane trip worth it… Brand new! Fresh off the press! And stolen from that douche Topher!"

Dean tossed back his head cackling over the thought, but then stopped short and looked back at Sam with awe.

"And it saved your life! Metallica literally saved your life!"

"I will never again doubt the power of Mullet Rock," Sam chuckled.

"No, it's the Cassette!" Dean insisted, "See if you'd gotten this on CD or God forbid downloaded it you'd be dead right now!"

"Well, no, not necessarily," Sam pouted, "Maybe Pooh really would have had enough fluff in its tummy…"

"Dude, please!" Dean scoffed, "Never mock my tape collection again! In fact, now I'm gonna have Bobby make you a bullet proof vest out of Classic Rock cassette tapes! Metallica, Motorhead, Zeppelin, a little AC/DC right over your heart… It'll keep you safe and improve your taste in music at the same time!"

"So, I take it you like your present," Sam giggled.

"Love it!" Dean kissed the cassette tape, "It's perfect on so many levels! You know, Dad gave me this same album for my 8th birthday… and now 20 years later to the day you give it back to me. Kinda like a new Winchester family tradition."

Sam's smile faded a bit and he turned away from Dean.

"Yeah…" he said softly, absently squeezing the Pooh Bear in his hands, "Speaking of Dad… uhh… I know you don't like getting all sentimental and chick flicky but… Well, you know… I didn't really remember much about Dad from the early years. I mostly remembered him being this hard ass hunter moving us around from town to town, training us like a drill sergeant… or just being gone. I never really got to see him when he was still just our Dad. But back there in the past, even though we weren't able to convince him of what was going on and that was frustrating as Hell, he… well he took care of me and sang to me and… well… you know, that's the memory that I'll always have of him now…"

Dean cleared his throat.

"Uhh, yeah…" he said after a while, "So, that's a good thing. I mean, the whole insane trip was worth it for that as well."

Sam nodded giving the Pooh Bear an affirmative squeak.

"And you got this souvenir to boot," Dean snorted, patting the Pooh Bear's head, "Although I do hope you realize that back in the year 1984 Little Sammy Winchester is probably beside himself wondering what happened to his buddy. You actually robbed an innocent toddler of his childhood companion. How will you ever sleep with a clear conscience again?"

"Eh, I wouldn't worry too much about Little Sammy Winchester," Sam said proudly propping the Bear up on the dashboard before turning back to Dean, "He'll be all right. After all, he has the World's Most Awesome Big Brother!"

Dean pulled a face like he'd just downed a shot glass full of sugar.

"Dude!" he snapped, "You see, this is exactly why I have a zero tolerance policy on chick flick moments. I give you an inch and you always go and take it too damn far! That's it! We're going to Hooters right now!"

He started up the car and peeled back onto the road.

"UGH! It's gonna take a mound of hot wings, a gallon of beer and a whole Harem of Hooters girls to cleanse my pallet after all the fruity sweet sentiment you just leaked into this car… And you're buying by the way. My birthday ain't over yet, no sir! You're gonna use your Gold Card, too! The one that says "Samuel Zappa" on it!"

"That's only for emergencies, Dean" Sam chided.

"Well, I'm declaring a State of Emergency which is my right as the Birthday Boy and as the World's Most Awesome Big Brother! And guess what else! We are staying in a swank hotel tonight Mr. Zappa. We're talking hot tub in the room, mini-bar and room service masseuse swanky! And hopefully, if all goes right at Hooters, with separate rooms for once!"

"Dude. Are you gonna be like this every birthday from now on?" Sam asked.

"Of course I am." Dean answered, "Remember, I have so decreed it that we must indulge in complete extravagance every birthday. And besides… We ain't getting any younger."

The brothers paused and exchanged a look. And then simultaneously burst out laughing. They laughed until their sides ached and tears rolled down their cheeks. When they had finally pulled themselves together and caught their breaths, Dean popped his new Ride the Lightning cassette into the tape deck and once again sang along with every word.

This time Sam sang along with him.

THE END


	25. +1

CONCLUSION-

By the time they made it to Hooters, Dean was bouncing so hard in his seat that Sam was sure the Impala would be due for a wheel realignment after this night. The Birthday Boy practically sprinted towards the entrance as if he were Dorothy and Hooters was the Emerald City.

"Will you hurry it up?" Dean snapped at Sam as the younger man strolled all too casually towards the door, "There's really only about three and a half hours left of my actual birthday!"

"What, are you afraid the Impala's gonna turn into a pumpkin at midnight?"

"At this point, anything's possible," Dean huffed, "I mean we spent most of the day stuck in the past and trapped in our younger bodies. What if it turns out there's some after-effect to traveling through time? For all we know, we could walk through that door and wind up back in the past doomed to live in the 80's forever!"

Sam just laughed, giving his brother a reassuring pat on the back as he guided him through the front door… and straight back into the 80's!

"Oh Mickey you're so fine… you're so fine you blow my mind… Hey Mickey! Hey Mickey!" came blasting from the overhead speakers.

The Winchesters stood dumbfounded as they took in the scene surrounding them.

The restaurant was decorated with cardboard cut outs of Pac-Man, Rubik's Cubes and Alf dangling from the ceiling. Stand-ees of E.T., Boy George and Ronald Reagan met them at the door. In the center of the restaurant Tom Cruise tended Bar in his Risky Business underwear while various members of Poison, Motley Crue and Stryper bused the tables. Mr. T appeared at a window in the kitchen, ringing a bell as he put an order up and David Lee Roth could be seen behind him busily washing the dishes.

The patrons were dressed in Member's Only jackets, British Flag T-Shirts, Parachute Pants and checkerboard loafers. Some wore prepped out yuppie clothes, while others wore ripped up denim jackets and jeans torn at the knees. The few female customers were wearing shoulder pads and had their hair teased up to the ceiling. And the waitresses were dressed… barely dressed in most cases, as various 80's icons. Annie Lennox with her short cropped red hair and man's suit carried a pair of margaritas to a couple who looked like David Hasselhoff and Joan Collins.

"Sweet dreams are made of these," she winked to them.

Cyndi Lauper brought a heaping tray of hot wings to a table of guys with Flock of Seagulls hairdos. Other tables were being tended to by Daisy Duke, Red Sonja, Princess Leia and even Apollonia.

"Maybe being trapped in the past isn't all bad…" Dean murmured, just as he and Sam were greeted by His Royal Badness, Prince.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called "80's Night at Hooters, dig?" said Prince, "Table for two?"

"Oh…" the Winchesters said at once.

They now noticed, with some relief, the banners overhead reading "80's Night" and that many of the patrons were gabbing on cell phones or texting as they enjoyed their meals. The very modern and very large flat screen TV's that lined the walls were currently showing various 80's movies like The Breakfast Club, Back to the Future, The Terminator and of course, Purple Rain.

Dean stood mesmerized as the scene where Prince convinces Apollonia to strip naked and purify herself in the lake came on. The crowd around the bar let up a cheer as she whipped off her top and dove straight in.

"God Bless you Apollonia!" Dean sniffled.

"Yes. Table for two," Sam said at last, shaking his head.

Dressed in full Pirate/ Indian Chief regalia, Adam Ant came up behind Prince and looked over the Purple One's shoulder as they scanned the seating chart for a suitable table.

"Smoking or Non?" Adam Ant asked.

"Oh, Non-Smoking, definitely," Dean answered, snapping back to reality as poor water-logged Apollonia dragged herself out of the lake and got her clothes back on.

"Goody Two Shoes," Adam Ant sneered as he led them to a table.

"Oh, I hope Princess Leia is our waitress!" Dean rubbed his hands together with glee studying the woman in the gold bikini and collar complete with chain dangling down her back.

His eyes then fell on the server dressed in lacy lingerie and high leather boots.

"No, no. Maybe Apollonia should be our waitress…" he insisted before raising an eyebrow at the woman wearing a man's suit, "Although Annie Lennox might be fun for a change…"

"You'll have to excuse my brother," Sam told Adam Ant, "He's just excited over his birthday… He's 12!"

"Birthday!" Adam Ant cried out, "Anyone who comes to 80's Night on their Birthday gets a free pitcher of beer and a free plate of hot wings!"

He placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled towards the kitchen. Michael Jackson came dancing out at once carrying a foamy pitcher of beer in one hand and a steaming tray of hot wings which he held with a sparkling silver oven-mitt glove.

"HOOOOOOO!" he screamed setting the items down before Moonwalking back into the kitchen.

Sam and Dean could barely contain their giggles as Adam Ant handed them a pair of menus and then took his leave promising that their server would be with them shortly.

"Dude! This is awesome!" Dean declared, raising a glass of beer to his brother, "The Universe has finally decided to smile upon Dean Winchester. For once, we get to kick back and celebrate my birthday in style!"

"I'll drink to that!" Sam agreed, clinking his glass against Dean's.

"I mean on such a perfect night as this, what could possibly go wrong?"

The men felt a presence come up to their table and turned to see Madonna standing before them. Except it wasn't exactly Madonna… just a young woman who very much resembled the Material Girl. She was dressed in a mini-skirt, neon green mesh halter top, fingerless lace gloves and Jelly shoes which looked uncomfortably familiar to the Winchester brothers. But what was even more disturbingly familiar was her face. An icy chill ran simultaneously through Sam and Dean. They knew that face without a doubt... it was unmistakably the same as their sadistic babysitter… Tiffany!

"Sonofabitch!" Dean mouthed to Sam.

The brothers sat staring up into the face of their tormentor. There was no question it was the same girl… though that was impossible. The Tiffany they met in 1984 would have had to have been in her 40's by now and with all the smoking and drinking she did would surely have looked much older than that even. This woman still had the dewy youthful skin of a 20-year-old. So either Tiffany really was a Shtriga who sucked the life-force out of every child she met in order to stay young… Or she had somehow leapt with them through the Time Portal to the present day! Sam and Dean exchanged a nervous glance at one another and then cast their eyes towards the Emergency Exit. One word of asinine Valley Speak from this girl and they were out the door…

"Welcome to Hooters," the girl said plainly enough though her voice was still eerily familiar, "I'm T.J. and I'll be your server tonight… Are you ready to order or do you need another minute with the menu… Well?... Cat got your tongues, guys?"

"C…cobb Salad..." Sam stammered, his eyes shifting from the girl's face to the exit.

"Bacon Double Cheeseburger," Dean stated, "With no cigarette ash, please!"

"Huh?" T.J. blinked.

"S…Sorry…" Sam chuckled nervously, "We're sorry… It's just… You look very familiar, T.J…. Could we have met before? You didn't by any chance happen to grow up in Lawrence, Kansas did you?

"And did you terrorize small children and talk like a California Valley Mall Rat?" Dean asked bluntly.

"Dean…" Sam admonished.

The waitress folded her arms and gave the older man a bemused smirk.

"I hope that's not your idea of a pick up line," she snorted, "I would never dream of terrorizing small children… I love kids! In fact the only reason I'm working at this place is to earn money for school. I'm studying to be a Pediatrician and my dream is to one day open the World's Best Child Care Center!"

"That… that sounds awesome…" Sam said sincerely.

"And in case you're wanting me to play the part I'm sorry, I refuse to talk like a Valley Girl… even for 80's night. My mom's best friend Debbie talked like that for the longest time! Drove me up the wall every time she came to visit us from West Virginia!"

"Your mom had a friend named Debbie from West Virginia?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, she did," T.J. nodded, then turned to back Sam, "And we did live in Lawrence, Kansas most of my life… But I don't see how we could have met. I was Home Schooled… Didn't really get to socialize much with kids my age. My parents were these super strict Holy Roller types. The kind who would stand in parking lots and shout Hellfire and Damnation speeches to random passersby. It was so embarrassing. I split town as soon as I turned 18 and never looked back."

Sam and Dean exchanged another baffled look.

"Your mom didn't happen to preach in… Valley Girl talk did she?" Dean dared to ask.

"No! What is it with you and Valley Talk?" T.J. snickered then grew more serious, "Actually she didn't speak at all. I never heard my mother's voice. She was struck mute at the age of 17 before I was born… But boy howdy could she Sign a mile a minute! Those hands of hers were forever in motion warning about the evils of cigarettes, alcohol and pre-martial sex…"

"I'm sorry to be nosey," Sam couldn't help but continue their questioning, "But I've never heard of someone being struck mute before. Was there some kind of accident…?"

"I don't know how it happened," T.J. admitted, "I mean, my mom always told me that she had been a wicked young girl who was engaging in immoral activities when she and her boyfriend at the time were punished for their sinful ways. She said that a woman from her neighborhood came in yelling at them for being irresponsible and when she tried to sass back and spoke the words: 'Gag me with a spoon, already!' the woman took her up on it and beat her so hard she never dared speak again… I mean, that's the story she always told me… But I never believed her. It sounds too much like that legend of The Crazy Spoon Lady… and everyone knows that's just an Urban Myth, right?"

"Yeah, right," Dean said swallowing hard.

He had a feeling that when he gave Missouri a call the next day he was not only going to have to thank her for saving them from Gordon… but also for silencing Tiffany!

"But I don't doubt my mom was a bit of a wild child in her younger years," T.J. continued, "I mean, I found this outfit in the back of her closet. I took it with me when I left home just to have something to remember her by. It's too bad she changed into such a prude. I'd like to think the girl who wore these clothes and I would have gotten along…"

"Not if you're at all passionate about decent Child Care," Sam muttered under his breath.

"Tiffany Junior!" Princess Leia called out as she sashayed over to the table eyeing Dean, "Will you please stop your yammering and get these gorgeous men their food already!"

"Please! I hate it when people use my full name!" the other girl huffed, "My name tag says 'T.J.'!"

"And my name tag says 'Kat'!" Princess Leia snorted, "But all night everyone's been calling me 'Your Worshipfulness', 'Jabba's Slave' and 'Hey, Hot Stuff!' So get over yourself, get a move on and get these guys their food!"

She swatted T.J. on the rear and hustled her towards the kitchen. Dean stared up in delight at the barely dressed woman beside him, deeply admiring her gold bikini.

"Sorry, she can be a bit chatty," Kat said, "If you don't feel you're being served, you can always request another waitress…"

"Nah uh, girl!" the waitress dressed in lingerie with 'Rainha' on her name tag came up and playfully shoved at Kat, "I see what you're up to! Trying to steal young Tiffany Junior's tips! For shame!"

"It's not the tips I'm interested in," she said, licking her lips as she shifted her gaze from brother to brother.

Sam and Dean stared at one another as Dean mouthed "Awesome!" to Sam.

"Yeah, well just remember I'm the one who saw them first," Rainha spoke in a Brazilian accent and stomped her high heeled leather boot as she glared at Kat, "I pointed them out to you right when they came in the door!"

"Ladies, please!" Dean beamed, "No need to bicker. My brother and I would consider it an honor to be served by both Princess Leia and Apollonia!"

Rainha cocked her head at Dean.

"I'm not Apollonia! I'm Vanity!" she sulked.

"Well, the Prince girls were pretty interchangeable," Kat snickered.

"Oh, it's only a silly costume," Rainha rolled her eyes, "I had to put something together for 80's night… I could never really be a Prince girl..."

She turned at once to Sam and ran her fingers through his hair.

"I'm only into tall men!" she declared as the younger Winchester blushed.

"Yes, this is just a costume as well," Kat nodded, idly playing with the chain around her neck, "I could never really be a Slave Girl… I'm always the Master!"

She wiggled her brows at Dean who cleared his throat.

"That's…uhh… that's good to know…" he gulped.

"Oh, what do you have here?" Rainha asked, noticing the faint red spots that still decorated Sam's skin, "Are these freckles or Chicken Pox?"

"Chicken Pox!" Dean declared before Sam could open his mouth, "He's been ill… probably needs his temperature taken…"

"Shut up!" Sam snapped, embarrassed, "It's just a joke… A very cruel and childish practical joke my brother played on me. He got overly creative and drew all over me with a magic marker. I tried to wash it off but…"

"All over?" Rainha giggled, running her finger along Sam's chin to his neck, "Oh, don't wash them off! Connect the Dots is one of my favorite games."

"Oh… that's also good to know…" Sam practically whimpered as she hooked her finger under his shirt collar searching for more dots.

"I have a favorite game too," Kat smirked and then whispered something in Dean's ear.

Sam had no idea what she might have been saying, but his older brother turned beet red all the way up to his ears as his eyes rolled to their whites. He finally leaned across the table and looked Sam straight in the eye.

"We are definitely getting separate rooms tonight!" Dean insisted.

"Definitely!" Sam agreed.

They hastily had their order boxed up to go and their new friends begged off work early letting T.J. take over their tables and have all their tips. The Winchesters left the a very generous gratuity to the future Pediatrician as well and soon the foursome was racing out the door. Rainha whipped off her black Vanity wig letting her fiery red hair fly free as she dove into the backseat of the Impala pulling Sam in with her. Kat sat primly in the front seat as Dean backed out of the parking lot and onto the highway. And then as soon as he was driving along at a steady pace, she leaned over and whispered something else in his ear that nearly sent them spinning off the road.

They managed to make it to a hotel in one piece and just as Dean had requested, it was a swank affair much better than what they were used to. They even had a gift shop which Dean and Kat perused while Sam paid for the rooms with Mr. Zappa's Gold Card, Rainha purring in his ear the whole time.

Heading towards their rooms, Kat took off her Slave Collar and playfully hooked it around Dean's neck.

"Whoa, whoa wait!" he yelped, "Just give me a second here. I gotta check up on my little brother first!"

"Aww!" both girls cooed as Dean strolled over towards a very confused Sam carrying a small brown paper bag.

"Dude?" Sam studied his brother curiously, wondering what he was up to.

"Well, uhh, Sammy," Dean began, speaking low, but not low enough for the women not to overhear," I know this is your first date in a long… long time. And I just wanted to make sure you had protection…"

"Dean!" Sam gasped, utterly mortified.

"Protection against chaffing," Dean said, pulling a small bottle of talcum powder out of the bag.

"I will kill you!" Sam seethed as the girls squealed with laughter.

He charged after Dean who fled holding the talcum powder out of Sam's reach.

"He likes a little dusting on his tush, Rainha!" Dean called out, "And he needs a lullaby to help him fall asleep! 'Stairway to Heaven' is his favorite! But 'Fade to Black' works just as well!"

Sam soon caught up to his brother, tackling him and locking his arms behind his back. Dean struggled, but was laughing too hard to really fight the taller man off. Before he knew it, Sam had managed to wrestle the talcum powder out of his grip and then bent him forward aiming his butt towards the night sky.

"I think you're the one who's gonna need the talcum powder tonight, Bro!" Sam mocked, "'Cause guess what! It's time for the Birthday Boy to get his spankings!"

Both girls cheered and hurried forward rubbing their hands together with glee.

"Don't forget to give him one to grow on, Ladies!" Sam called out, holding his brother in place.

"Bitch!" Dean cackled hysterically.

"Jerk!" Sam laughed back.

And for one brief moment in time, the Universe smiled upon them both.

THE END (fer reals!)


End file.
